Eternal Flame
by Piccolo999
Summary: Rory and Paris are roommates at Yale. Paris harbours a secret love for Rory, but as their college life together develops things start to change. Femme slash story. You have been warned.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** First Gilmore Girls fanfic. I have only seen the first three seasons, so that's what I'm working with. This story will cover Rory and Paris' relationship as they attend Yale together. This first chapter is just a recap of Paris' thoughts and feelings during the first three seasons. Next chapter will get into the actual story. Hope you guys enjoy. Feedback is much appreciated. And yes, this is going to be a girl/girl pairing, so if you don't like that shit, don't read it. Any flames will be ignored and deleted, so don't waste your time. Thank you.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter One

My name is Paris Geller and I'm in love with my best friend, Rory Gilmore.

I know what your thinking, right, what a great way to introduce myself. It's true though, and that little statement has really come to define my life. Rory Gilmore means everything to me. I don't know where I would be right now if I hadn't met her.

I used to think that I could handle anything and that I didn't need anybody to help me achieve my lofty goals. I come from a long line of prosperous Gellers, so the pressure was on me to succeed way before I was really ready for it. My mother views me as more of an annoyance than anything – nothing I do pleases her. My father isn't quite as bad as my mother, but he shows more attention to his work than me. I'm not very high on his list of priorities, and I've come to accept that. Let me assure you, none of this really bothers me. I accepted all of this year's ago, way before I met Rory Gilmore.

I more than stood my ground. I was intelligent, determined, and completely dedicated to my future. I knew that no matter what I did, I would never please my mother, so I didn't let her get to me. Okay, so maybe I did a bit, but it was not for a lack of trying. She was my mother after all. Is it really so bad to want her approval? Even just a tiny nod of respect or admiration or pride? I don't think so. Of course, I would never let anyone know this.

Growing up like I did, I learnt to protect myself at an early age. I built a wall around my heart, in a vain attempt to keep my mother out. Somebody should have informed me that this would be a futile effort, but nobody did. It was only after the wall was fully built and fortified that I found out it was useless. My mother was already _inside_ my heart. I would never be able to keep her out. Unfortunately, now that the wall was built, I couldn't tear it down. I was too afraid.

After all, it was pretty clear that I was worth very little. My own mother couldn't even love me. Why would anyone else? No, I thought it was best if I kept the wall up, and kept everyone out. That way they couldn't hurt me. I would be safe. Protected.

Alone.

Okay, maybe not completely alone. I still had my nanny. She was more a mother to me than my own. If only I could make myself believe it was out of love, and not monetary gain. Francesca was great, and I loved her, but deep down I knew the only reason she paid such close attention to me was because it was her job.

So I threw myself in academia, dedicated to become someone, and futilely hoping my mother would look at me one day and smile. Life went by and I grew a little taller, I filled out, but I never let anyone inside my heart. It was still locked away.

Don't think that means I didn't have friends. I had Madeline and Louise, my two compatriots. Though I must admit, they were more like accomplices than friends. Then there was Tristan DuGrey, my childhood crush. I thought I was in love with him for the longest time. I emphasised with him. He was the only person to break through my wall. At least before I met Rory.

I've since spent a lot of time trying to figure out why Tristan held such a hold on me. I was misguided when I thought that he was my first romantic love. He was more like a brother. As I said before, I emphasised with him. Perhaps I recognised myself in him. My feelings probably stemmed from that place in myself, and I wanted to comfort him, like I secretly wanted someone to comfort me. He was cute too – for a boy.

But then Rory strolled into my life and turned everything upside down.

At first, I just thought of her as a nuisance - like a fly that was buzzing around my head, annoying me, but not posing any kind of real threat. It quickly became clear that she was going to be more of an annoyance though. She was going to be my rival.

I thought I had won when she was late for Mr. Medina's examination, but she proved me wrong. I found myself admiring her stubbornness. She refused to give up and eventually became my academia equal. At first I was upset to learn that she planned on going to Harvard as well, but we both agreed it was a big school and we would likely never even see each other. Or maybe we both just hoped that.

Another point of contention between us was Tristan. It was clear to everyone in the school except Rory that he was crazy about her. He practically followed her around the school and constantly teased her in that way that boys do towards girls they like. I finally demanded to know if they were dating and was relieved when she gave me an emphatic no. At least that was one thing I didn't have to worry about. Rory Gilmore was certainly not going to encroach on that aspect of my life. I was feeling so happy about that new revelation that I was even pleasant towards her for a moment. I complemented her on the party her grandmother had organised for her and as she smiled and thanked me, I felt that first spark inside me ignite. Of course I had no idea what it was. I dismissed it without a second thought.

Things between us didn't improve though. I was still, for some ungodly reason, insanely jealous towards her because of Tristan. He continued to pursue her despite her obvious repulsive feelings towards him. And I lashed out at her because of it. I had to think of her as the bad guy. It couldn't be Tristan. He liked her. She was just being unfair and cruel. She didn't deserve his attention. When the formal rolled around and I couldn't get a date, my "loving" mother decided to pull some strings with my cousin Jacob and he ended up taking me. It's not one of my finest moments. I only made matters worse when I found out that Jacob had told Rory he was my cousin. I confronted her about it and demanded to know how many people she had told. Shame on me for not realising that Rory was actually a great girl. I ended up outing myself as I ranted at her. If I had been paying any kind of attention to Rory, and not just hating her on principle, I would have realised that she would never do anything like that. It was a lesson I was not going to forget.

Of course, ice bitch that I am, it didn't stop me from outing Rory's mother and Mr. Medina when I witnessed the two of them locked in a firm and passionate embrace. It was a hard time for me, having to deal with my parents pending divorce, and the fact that the entire school was revelling in my misery. I just wanted them to talk about someone else for once. I didn't think twice about shifting the attention to Rory. Once again, Rory surprised me with her kindness. She really chewed me out, but when I admitted my reasons, she offered me her ear, should I ever need it. Can you believe it?

Rory Gilmore was like an angel. I found myself wondering how I could ever have hated her.

Our tenuous friendship was formed when Rory and her mother invited Madeline, Louise and myself to a Bangles concert. It was and is to this day the best night of my life. Madeline and Louise bailed not even halfway through the concert, which left Rory and me alone. I was completely engrossed in the music and atmosphere and, unknowingly, the presence of Rory by my side. My heart was thumping the entire time with excitement and I didn't realise until later that it was because I was with Rory. We stood side-by-side and listened to the band play, sharing a smile every now and then. _Eternal Flame_ became my favourite song.

Tristan seemed to have gotten over his thing for Rory (at least momentarily) because he was now hanging all over a girl named Summer. Rory and I found ourselves agreeing when we witnessed how she treated him during Madeline's party. Of course, Rory was broken up over her break-up with her lanky caveman boyfriend, so she wasn't entirely vocal about it, but I could tell from the way she looked at the public scene that she wasn't impressed with the other girl. I found myself wanting to comfort Rory somehow, but I wasn't very good at things like that, so I didn't. I still consider it a missed opportunity. If only I had realised my feelings earlier, maybe I would have tried to take advantage of the situation.

As it happens, I would realise my true feelings for Rory shortly thereafter. It was during my date with Tristan, which Rory actually helped me prepare for. Yeah, take a moment to consider the irony there. The date was okay, but it wasn't what I was expecting. I always thought that my heart would be beating the entire time, that I would be desperate to touch him, eager for the typical good night kiss at the end of the date. Instead, I found myself thinking about Rory. Specifically, about how going to the Bangles concert with her was far more exhilarating than sitting across the romantically lit dinner table with Tristan. The kiss goodnight was plain, flat, dull… utterly boring. I didn't feel a thing. It was like kissing a relative. I crawled into bed that night thinking about Rory. I remembered the concert and how my heart was pounding then. I remembered the feeling of Rory standing so close beside me. I remembered the way she smiled at me as we enjoyed the show. I remembered that I had never had quite so much fun as I had then.

There was only one logical explanation.

I had a crush on Rory Gilmore.

I tried not to think about the ramifications of this little revelation as I tried to sleep, but that proved impossible in my dream state. I dreamt about Rory and I, kissing, touching, and writhing beneath my sheets. It was my first sexual dream. I never even had one about Tristan. I woke up covered in sweat, my pj's sticking to my back. I took a cold shower to try and wash away my shame. My tears fell unnoticeably in the cascade of water.

At school, Rory asked me how the date went. I was prepared for this. I gushed enthusiastically to her about how perfect it was. I had to keep up appearances. No one could know that I was having sexual thoughts about another girl, let alone Rory, the girl in question. But then Tristan had to go and ruin everything by telling the world that I wasn't his type and that the date was as lacklustre for him as it was for me. It also hurt more than I liked to admit that Rory was behind the entire set up. It shouldn't have been surprising. I had wondered what had prompted Tristan into asking me out on a date in the first place. Hurt that Rory obviously didn't share my feelings and humiliated in front of the entire room, I lashed out at her. I even screamed 'I hate you' at her, which was as far from the truth as you can get.

In my heart I knew that I couldn't let her get any closer to me. I had to keep her at a distance. She would never return my feelings. She was as straight as they come, after all. So I made the painful decision that I would push her away. I would go back to treating her like my own worst enemy.

When I found out that Tristan was taking Rory to see PJ Harvey, I didn't even bother trying to hide the pain I felt. It didn't matter either way. Everyone would assume I was upset over Tristan taking Rory, and not Rory accepting. Sticking to my new rule regarding the object of my unnatural affections, I was as cruel as possible to Rory. I made sure Medline and Louise knew that Rory was now to be treated like a boyfriend stealer. When Rory tried to explain that she wasn't going to PJ Harvey with Tristan, I knew she was telling the truth, but I couldn't allow myself to be swayed from my new life decree. Rory had to stay away from me, before I did something I would regret.

I managed to keep this up when we returned to Chilton after the summer break. By this time I had come to accept the reality. I was a lesbian. I had a huge unrequited crush on Rory Gilmore. She had wormed her way through my walls before I was even aware of it.

It was hard and painful to keep her at a distance, but I managed to do it. It was better that way. At least, it was better that way until I saw Rory sitting at the Puffs table. I had been trying to get into the secret Chilton sorority for such a long time, and now here was Rory, sitting at the table and chatting with Francie like they were best friends. I could only imagine what Rory was saying about me!

So I decided it was time to do some begging. I had to keep Rory from telling them how much of a bitch she thought I was. It actually worked out better than I expected, at least at first. Rory once again surprised me with her benevolence when she talked me up to the Puffs. I soon found myself invited to the table as well. I felt my heart swell with love for Rory, but I quickly squashed it. I couldn't allow myself to feel that way.

In the end, it all proved to be a big waste of time. Our Puffs initiation was a disaster. The only highlight of the night was getting to sneak into Rory's home. She looked so cute in her pj's. I just wanted to wrap her in my arms and give her a big kiss. Can you already see my resolve weakening? Of course, I was also immensely embarrassed to be seen with zit cream all over my face, but I didn't allow myself to dwell on that fact. It didn't matter anyway. It's not like Rory ever put any thought into what I looked like. Between the two of us, she wasn't the raging lesbo.

After the Puffs situation, I found myself warming to Rory again. I didn't hang out with her by any stretch of the meaning, but I didn't go out of my way to be cruel to her anymore. I just couldn't keep it up anymore. I almost had a heart attack when Tristan was unable to play Romeo, and I had to step in to take his place. I was just glad I didn't have long to dwell on the stage "kiss" with Rory. Let's just say my dreams that night took on a whole new Romeo and Juliet like angle.

Rory had once again weaselled her way into my life. I spent the night at her mother's Inn during some big nineteenth century themed dinner party. I was desperate to discover Rory's PSAT score. Let's face it; I was unable to stay away. It was simply magnetic. I, Paris Geller, was not meant to stay away from Rory Gilmore.

I ended up teaming up with Rory for a debate about assisted suicide. We won, of course, but that's not the important part. The important part is that she didn't want to celebrate with me afterwards. Not that I could really blame her. I doubt I would have wanted to spend time with me either.

It was becoming clear to me that Rory didn't like me very much.

This was further emphasised when I got a bad grade in Chemistry. I asked Rory to help me study, but she turned me down. She claimed to be too busy to help me, but when I showed up at her house later I found that her big night involved doing laundry. That's right. Laundry was more important to her than me. It was a huge slap in the face for me. I was visibly upset, I just couldn't hide it, and Rory seemed to take pity on me. She invited me to stay and offered to help me after all. Pathetic loser that I am, I accepted. In the end, it worked out pretty well for me. Her boyfriend Dean showed up and went nuts when he found out that Rory had been spending time with another guy. Or maybe it was just this particular guy. It was painfully obvious that Jess had a thing for Rory. Dean was jealous. He was screaming at her and I just couldn't take it. Didn't he know how lucky he was? So I spoke up, lied for Rory, and said that I had asked her to invite Jess over for me because I had a crush on him. Biggest lie in the universe, but it worked. After Dean left, Rory was markedly friendlier towards me. She asked me if I wanted to stay the night. I felt hopeful that I might not have damaged our relationship as much as I first thought. Perhaps we could recover.

By the end of the year I was in desperate need of a VP to run for student council with me. Rory was the only option. I knew that she would probably be less than thrilled with the idea, but after playing the Harvard card, she accepted. This meant that we would be spending the summer together in Washington, DC. I was both tremendously excited and terrified by this development. Would I be able to keep my feelings for her hidden in such close quarters with her?

The summer was just as hard as I thought it would be. You might as well call me a glutton for punishment. I spent many a night internally chastising myself for thinking I could handle three months of having Rory as my roommate. To try and minimise the temptation and desire, I threw myself into books, work, anything that would distract me from Rory. I even ended up dating a _boy_! Sure, I never intended to. I was shocked when Rory informed me that I had just accepted a date with Jamie, but after thinking about it, I decided it wasn't such a bad idea. It would really help take my mind off Rory and it wouldn't do any harm. It was a summer fling – no commitment. I could handle that. Jamie was a nice guy as well, so it wasn't like I was subjecting myself to several bad dates. They were fun, despite the fact I felt absolutely no attraction towards him. I made sure to sound eager in front of Rory, so as not to arouse any suspicion about my sexual orientation.

However, as these things go, dating Jamie came back to bite me in the ass later that year. He showed up at Chilton and professed his feelings to me. I felt guilty about leading him on, and I was panicking, because I sure as hell didn't want to get into a relationship with him. It would be even worse to lead him on now, but how could I turn him down after gushing ad nauseam to Rory about him? Simple answer – I couldn't. I had to go on at least one date with him, which I did. Then I broke things off with him, under the guise of not feeling the spark anymore, which was partially true. I just left out the fact that I had _never_ felt the spark in the first place.

A new thorn in my side was also becoming apparent. You might remember her name from the Puffs situation. Francie was trying to undermine my leadership of the student council. I was one step ahead of her though. She could try all she wanted, but I was confident in my ability to outwit her. I should have taken her more seriously though. She was an even bigger bitch than I was.

You see things with Rory were going great. We were fast become best friends. Or at least, I considered her to be my best friend. I wanted more, but I knew that would never happen, so being her best friend was the most I could hope for. And I was happy with that. She was kind to me, she respected my opinions, and she was my confidant. The only person I felt comfortable with in my life.

Francie had to go and ruin all that though. I knew that letting myself get close to Rory would end up hurting me eventually. That time came about when Francie revealed that Rory had been going behind my back. I thought we had become close. I thought we were, maybe not mutual best friends, but close friends at least. But she didn't trust me enough to tell me that Francie had been trying to manipulate her. She kept me out of the loop. I had to learn all of this when Francie tried to sell me her spiel, implying that Rory had been trying to undermine my authority. I knew it was a lie, but Francie got what she wanted anyway. She hurt me. She hurt my friendship with Rory.

I felt betrayed. Maybe I overreacted – I have a tendency to do that sometimes – but it didn't change how I felt. I withdrew into my protective shell again. I couldn't afford to let it happen again. I had to be strong this time. I had to keep Rory at a distance.

You would think I'd have learnt by now that I couldn't stay away, right? It turned out that Rory and I would have to give a joint speech for the Chilton Bicentennial. So we once again ended up thrust together. Fate truly was a wicked creature. I insisted that we meet so that we could go over the speech together. This was a little self-serving for me. You see I really needed to talk to someone. And the only person I felt comfortable talking to was Rory. So I was barely through the door before I was spilling my guts. Jamie had called by my house last night, upset, devastated about a bad break-up. He was a mess. I was a mess. We ended up being a mess together. I don't even know how it happened. I'm certainly not interested in boys. I've made that perfectly clear, I'm sure, but it happened anyway. Maybe I was trying to defy fate.

Long story short, I had sex with Jamie.

Rory was supportive, as I knew she would be, and our unique bond was reformed.

Then things just got worse for me. I got my rejection letter from Harvard. My world crumbled. Everything I had been working towards for my entire life, it was over. I wasn't going to Harvard. I was a walking zombie as I arrived at Chilton for the bicentennial speech. Of course, things could only get worse, as I ended up having a meltdown on live television, before the entire audience, screaming that I had sex, but that I didn't get into Harvard. Rory dragged me off the stage and offered me her shoulder for support. I cried, not just for my failed dream, but also because I knew that Rory had got into Harvard. I felt it in my bones and in my heart. I was never going to see her again. Our time together was coming to an end.

The end of the year was heartbreaking for me. I had to accept the fact that our story was over. Rory and I would never be thrown together by fate again. We would go on to live our separate lives. I hid my tears at graduation. Paris Geller does not cry – and certainly not about Rory Gilmore. I projected a proud face to the crowd and headmaster Charleston, but inside I felt my heart shrivelling.

When I said goodbye to Rory, I struggled to keep my composure. I don't know how I managed it, but as I watched her walk away, I knew I would never love anyone as much as I loved her. I wanted to scream it at her back, scream it to the rafters, but I didn't. I was too afraid. I was a coward.

I sat on the steps of Chilton's entrance hall and finally allowed myself to cry. 'Goodbye Rory,' I whispered to myself, 'goodbye my love.'

Yeah, I should have known better, right?

It wasn't the end.

It was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** First things first, I'm English, so I have no idea (besides what I've picked up from TV shows and whatnot) what happens at American Colleges. I don't even know what the English equivalent (University) is like, as I never went there either. So I'm kinda just winging it with how I think it would be like. That being said, please don't criticise my lack of knowledge in that area. By all means, feel free to correct me, but don't expect me to go back and correct it in the story.

Also, the book that Paris is reading in this chapter came out in 2004, so forgive this little lapse in the timeline. It's one of my favourite books and I think that both Paris and Rory would enjoy it.

At the moment it is my intention to post each chapter from either Rory's or Paris' POV. So, based on that, chapter length will vary depending on what needs to happen in the chapter. I will let you know which POV each chapter will be from, just to make it easier for you to get right into the story.

I don't have a Beta reader for this story, so forgive any mistakes I may have missed. Feel free to point them out though. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Two

To say I was surprised to see Paris was an understatement. Yeah, I knew Yale was one of her choices, but I never thought she would actually decide to come here, especially over Princeton, which was the college her ex-"boyfriend" Jamie attended. Despite the fact they weren't together, I knew that she still regarded him as a close friend. Why wouldn't she take the opportunity to be closer to him? And even if she did choose Yale, I certainly didn't expect her to be my roommate. I mean, come on, what are the odds?

But that's exactly what happened.

I remember when Mom and I walked into my new dorm for the first time. Paris was over on the left side of the room, unpacking some of her books and placing them in what I later learned to be alphabetical order, by title and then genre, along the bookshelf on what became her side of the room. She turned to face us as we entered, a copy of _Les Miserables_ in hand. She didn't react in any way, except to stare at me blankly.

I'm not sure what my expression was. I was just too surprised to see her.

Thankfully, Mom was there to break the silence. 'Paris, hi,' she said, 'what a surprise to see you here. You're not stalking us, are you?'

Mom's teasing seemed to snap Paris out of her daze. 'Of course not,' she said, 'believe me, I'm as surprised to see you here as you are to see me.'

'It was a joke, hon,' Mom assured her gently, sharing a can-you-believe-this look with me.

'I didn't expect you to pick Yale,' I said to Paris, dropping my bag by the other bed.

This might be a good time to describe the room I was now apparently going to be sharing with Paris. It wasn't large, by any means, but it was bigger than what I was expecting. I'd heard horror stories about dorm rooms being more like walk in closets, but this one wasn't that bad. It was rectangular and had two out facing windows along the far wall, under which were the two beds. Two nightstands separated the beds, both with lamps and a few drawers. The room was very symmetrical, except for the door on my side of the room that led into the joint bathroom. There were also two small closet spaces on each end of the room and identical writing desks and chairs. It was decorated simply, with cream coloured wallpaper, red carpet, and mahogany furnishings.

'I didn't expect _you_ to pick Yale either,' Paris admitted.

'Yeah,' I said slowly. I was still trying to get over the shock of having Paris as my roommate. I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about it. We had come a long way since my first day at Chilton, but even so, I couldn't define our relationship. Over the last three years at Chilton, we're had so many ups and downs, times I thought that we were finally getting somewhere, if not friendly, then at least civil, and then something would happen and we'd be right back to that first day, when I bumped into her and wrecked her project. I just could never be sure with her. Last I knew, we had parted on good terms, but how would she feel about having to share accommodations with me for the unforeseeable future?

Of course, we had done it before, but that was only for six weeks. Not to mention we had a lot more supervision during that summer trip to Washington, DC. This was going to be a completely different experience. What if we couldn't stand each other? I'd been witness to Paris mad on several occasions, and I had no wish for a repeat viewing, especially not directed at me. It would just be excruciating having to deal with a roommate that hated me. It was certainly not something I wanted or needed during this important part of my life.

As my Mom started joking about Paris already commandeering her side of the room, I remember wondering how life always seemed to throw the unexpected at you. And let me tell you, at the time, I had no idea how right that errant thought was.

Mom helped me unpack most of my stuff as Paris finished off her own unpacking. We didn't say much to each other during the unpacking process. I can only speak for myself, but I was still trying to get over the shock of seeing Paris, and I imagine she must have felt the same. Paris finished before us and excused herself to go and explore the campus. I thought to myself that she was probably just trying to escape the somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled over the room, despite Mom's best attempts at lightening the situation. Why were we so uncomfortable with this new development, you ask? I'm not entirely sure. Paris seemed very tentative, which is not something I'm used to seeing in her, as she mumbled to herself and sorted through her book collection. It was like she was afraid to move too fast, lest she draw my attention. Her uneasiness was in turn making me uneasy.

'That was odd,' Mom observed once Paris had left (fled) the room.

'Yeah,' I said, handing Mom another of my shirts to hang in the closet.

We finished unpacking my last suitcase in silence. Afterwards, Mom sat on the bed, looking towards the side of the room that Paris had claimed as her own. I followed her gaze. Her bookcase was full to the brim, wedged with books of all shapes and sizes. I felt the urge to go and peruse her collection, the bookworm in me curious to see what kind of books Paris had decided to bring with her to Yale, but I denied it for now. I sat down next to Mom.

'So, Paris is your new roommate,' Mom said conversationally.

'Yeah,' I once again replied. I couldn't seem to form any other kind of response to this topic. I was still trying to get my head around it myself.

'How do you feel about this kiddo?'

'I don't know,' I said softly.

'Want me to kidnap her and lock her in a basement somewhere so you can have the room all to yourself?' Mom jokingly asked, raising an eyebrow at me and giving me a wicked grin.

I laughed. 'I'll let you know.'

'Seriously though,' Mom went on, 'how do you feel about this? I know you and Paris have had a tumultuous, dare I say, friendship. Are you okay with the idea of spending the next few years with her as your roommate?'

'She can be a handful,' I said honestly, fidgeting with the bed sheets. 'But at times, I think she wants to be my friend more than she lets on. I don't think she's ever really had a true friend before. Maybe this will turn out to be a good thing. It might bring us closer together; help us bond like we couldn't at Chilton. Then again, it could turn out to be a disaster. I don't think Paris is going to be the easiest person to live with. We might end up killing each other before the week is out.' I sighed. 'I guess we'll just have to wait and see how it goes.'

'How do you want it to go?' Mom asked me with a serious expression.

I thought about it for a moment. It's true that at times I've really hated Paris. She can be such a bitch sometimes, it's hard to really like her, but at the same time, when she isn't being a total bitch, she has shown a softer side. It's not easy to see. It comes when you least expect it, but she can be nice. The few times I've seen her when she has let her guard down and allowed herself to be happy, I've seen her smile, and I'll be honest with you - it's the sweetest sight I think I've ever seen. She has a smile that rivals the Mona Lisa.

I'd like to see that smile a whole lot more.

'I want us to get along,' I said. 'I want to be her friend Mom. I really hope this arrangement works out. Who knows, maybe I can get her to relax and open up a little.'

Mom laughed. 'Good luck with that sweetie.'

'Thanks,' I replied dryly, somewhat put out by her lack of confidence in me.

Mom left shortly after that. It was time for me go it on my own, something I was not entirely sure I was ready for. I finished the little bit of unpacking I had and then sat on my bed, staring at the wall and mulling things over. Paris still hadn't returned to the room and I idly wondered where she was. I was pretty convinced she was avoiding me by this point, but the reason why still eluded me. Was she upset that I was her roommate? Was she right now trying to get herself moved into a different dorm? No, that didn't sound quite right. More like she was trying to get _me_ moved into a different dorm. I smiled at the thought.

My eye was drawn once again to her bookshelf. Taking a moment to check in the hallway for Paris, I decided it was safe to have a quick look at her collection. A certain book jumped out at me, one that was not organised like the others, but had been left flat on the middle shelf. I picked up the hardback book and read the title: _The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time_ by Mark Haddon. I'd never heard of it before, so I was immediately interested. Opening it up to the first page, I found that it had only just been released, which was probably why I had never heard of it before. I was about to read the synopsis on the back when I heard the door open and close behind me. I whipped around in surprise, caught red handed with Paris' book.

'Hi,' I said nervously, giving her a sheepish smile. She was looking at the book in my hand. 'Sorry about this.' I hefted the book for emphasis. 'I was just curious what kind of books you decided to bring. I hope you don't mind.'

'It's a new one,' Paris replied, gesturing to the book in my hand. 'I've only just started reading it.'

'Oh.' I was desperate to keep this light, seeing as how she wasn't biting my head off yet. 'Is it any good?'

'It's alright,' she said, and held her hand out, 'I'll have it back now.'

'Right,' I said, handing it over.

She walked past me and put the book back in the same position as before. I stood there stupidly, not sure what to say to ease the uncomfortable situation. Paris had her back to me. She was nonchalantly running her hands over the spines of her books. I got the feeling she was just as stumped as I was.

I cleared my throat and said, 'I'm really sorry about this. I didn't mean to pry into your things, I'm just infinitely curious when it comes to books.'

'I'm not mad,' she said, though I could tell she was lying.

'It won't happen again,' I tried again. 'I promise.'

'Okay.'

Sensing that I wouldn't get anything more out of her, I sighed and went back over to my side of the room. Living with Paris was going to be even harder than I thought, especially if I kept up like this. It was just like me to ruin things right from the get go. It was starting to become a pattern when it came to Paris and I. I sat on my bed and tried to think of some way I could make thing better between us, some way that I could ease the tension, but nothing came to me. Finally I decided to give up for the time being and, unable to stand the uncomfortable silence that permeated the room, I left to go take a look around campus myself. Besides, I still had some business to take care of, like getting my Student I.D. and finding out where to get the best coffee around Yale.

I hesitated for a moment at the door, glancing over at Paris, who was sat on her bed reading from the same book she had caught me with. I cleared my throat and she looked up at me. 'I'll be back later,' I said. I wanted to say more, but words escaped me, so I just mumbled, 'enjoy the book,' and then left.

For whatever reason, I could not help but think about Paris as I went about the rest of my business. She had always had this effect on me. When I told Mom about my weird fixation on Paris, she said it was just my warm-hearted nature that made me care about people like Paris.

When I first met her at Chilton, I thought she was just another one of those bully types, who get some sort of sick pleasure out of mistreating others. However, after spending more and more time with her, I began to see another side of her. She wasn't as confident as she came off. Like the time she was panicking about her date with Tristan, worried about what to say and what to wear, she was totally out of her element.

Dare I say it - I found it cute.

I think the most important moment from my history with Paris, the moment that I really saw her for who she is, behind the abrasive personality, was when Francie Jarvis revealed our little secret liaison (which she tricked me into, by the way) to Paris. She was crushed by it, much more than I thought she would be. I felt my heart clench in pain when Paris yelled at me, 'I thought you were my best friend!', before storming from the fencing room.

I think a part of me was always aware that behind her Ice Queen exposure, Paris was extremely insecure. I must have unconsciously seen that in her, which is why I was always drawn to her. Even when she was being cruel, I could never truly hate her. It's the only explanation I could come up with at the time. Of course now I know the real reason Paris held such a hold on me, but at the time, it was the only thing that made sense to me.

Eventually, I had no choice but to return to the tense atmosphere of the dorm I shared with Paris. This time she was sitting at her desk, leaning over a notebook and scribbling furiously. I went to sit on my bed, but stopped when I saw Paris' book waiting for me on my pillow. I picked it up slowly and read the cover again.

'I finished it,' Paris said, from behind me. I turned to look at her. 'You can read it, if you like,' she trailed off, smiling slightly, unsurely.

My heart went out to her. Maybe having Paris as my roommate wouldn't be so bad after all. With a sense of hope, I said, 'thanks,' and sat down on my bed to read her book.


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N: **I hope you like. Leave a review if you love me. :- ) Seriously though, reviews make my day, and I appreciate all that I get. Thanks for reading. You all rule.

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Three

Fate is definitely comparable to my mother – a bitch!

Since leaving Chilton, I had come to accept that Rory Gilmore was no longer going to be an aspect of my life. It hurt to think about it at first, the prospect of never seeing her glorious clear blue eyes ever again, but I knew that eventually, times passes, and you move on. I thought I had begun to move on.

But then there she was - my love, my new roommate, and my unavoidable soul mate. There was no escaping her. How else can I explain it? She was everywhere, always there, always taking me unawares, and catching me off guard. Even when I think it's all over and there is no way that she can continue to be a part of my life, there she was, lying across from me on her bed, reading the book I had lent her.

The first sight of her had stunned me silent. I wasn't expecting her at all. How could I have been? I wasn't prepared for it and I couldn't deal. I tried to ignore her presence in the room, but in the end it was too much. I didn't know how to act; I didn't know how I was going to deal, and so I ran. As I took a self-tour of campus, I tried to figure out my game plan, but by the time I returned to the dorm I would now be sharing with Rory, I was no closer to figuring it out.

Talking to her was just too hard. Should I be mean? Try and push her away? Or should I just accept the inevitable and just befriend her and get it over with? Would I be able to suppress my urges and resist my desire for her? Or would I ruin everything by giving into passion and kissing her? So many questions, and I had no answers.

The only thing I could state with even a remote sense of certainty was that I had tried to push her away before, and it hadn't worked. But could I risk getting close to her?

In the end, for the moment, I kept my responses very non-committal. Short and to the point was the trick. I tried very hard not to let my feelings known, and I think I succeeded. Rory seemed to find the atmosphere in the room just as uncomfortable as I did, and she eventually left the room. I felt bad for making her feel uncomfortable in her new "home", but at the same time I was relieved she had left. It gave me a chance to think clearly.

I quickly finished the book I was reading, the one that Rory had been looking at earlier, and then set it aside. The ending of the book made me think that sometimes, when something is hard, you really have to fight to make it work, even if its so hard it hurts, because in the end it's worth it. It made me think that if having Rory as my friend was all I could have, then I would take it, because she _was_ worth it, no matter how hard it might be.

So before Rory returned from wherever she had gone, I got up and put _The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time_ on her pillow. It was my way of showing her that I wanted and needed her friendship. Sitting at my desk and jotting down some idle thoughts, I hoped that she understood what I was trying to say without words. When she thanked me for the gesture, I was pretty sure she understood.

I had trouble sleeping that first night at Yale. I was intensely aware of Rory lying just across from me in her bed. I could vaguely make out her form in the shadows. Her chest rose and fell regularly, but I couldn't really tell if she was sleeping or not. The quiet weighed heavily on me, making it even harder for me to relax and fall asleep. Eventually, I couldn't take it any longer. I decided to try and see if Rory was awake as well.

'Rory?' I called softly, enquiringly.

I heard her shift a little, then her voice, quiet like mine, 'Yeah?'

Now I needed to think of a topic of conversation. Maybe I should have thought of that before I called her name…

'What is it?' Rory prompted me.

'I was just wondering,' I said, thinking quickly, 'why did you chose Yale? I thought your dream was Harvard?'

'Oh.' Rory shifted again. I could see her blue eyes as she rolled onto her side and looked over towards me. 'It was a lot of things, actually. Yale is closer to my Mom and Stars Hollow, so that was a factor. And my grandfather is a Yale alumnus and he really wanted me to come here. Mostly though, after thinking about it, I realised that Yale was better suited to me. What about you?'

'It was the best choice for me,' I admitted. 'Princeton would be too complicated with Jamie going there.'

'How are things between you two?'

'He called me a few times since… you know…'

'Yeah,' Rory said understandingly, 'what did he have to say?'

'He wanted to see me again,' I said. It felt good to finally have someone to talk to about Jamie. I'd missed the closeness that Rory and I used to share, despite our chaotic relationship. 'I told him that it wouldn't be a good idea.'

'Why?' Rory asked. She wasn't being judgemental – she never was, it was why I could always tell her things that I could never tell to Madeline or Louise – she was just curious. 'You slept with him. Surely that means something.'

'It means I was stupid,' I said honestly. 'It's really not one of my proudest moments Rory. I like Jamie, don't get me wrong, but it's not in a sexual way. He was hurt and I wasn't feeling all that great either and we were both there, hurting, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You have no idea how I wish I could take it back. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done.'

'Even more stupid than revealing it on live television?' Rory enquired, and I could hear the teasing tone in her voice.

I flushed at the memory. 'Thanks for reminding me,' I said, a little bit too sharply than I really intended.

Rory was silent for a moment. I wanted to apologise for biting her head off, but it wasn't as easy as that for me. Saying sorry wasn't something I was used too, or entirely comfortable with.

'So there's really no hope for you two?' Rory finally brought the conversation back to Jamie.

'None whatsoever,' I said emphatically.

'He's not your type?'

I smiled at her choice of words.

'He couldn't be farther from my type if he tried.'

'You don't like smart, attractive, funny guys?'

Her teasing tone was back. I managed to quail my instinctively snappy response this time. I didn't really take teasing that well. It just wasn't something I was built to do, but I managed to do it for Rory. I just had to remind myself she wasn't trying to be cruel. She was just being playful.

'Paris?'

I sighed. I didn't know how to respond to her line of questioning. I mean I really had no good reason for not liking Jamie. Any sane straight girl would die for a guy like Jamie, after all, but I couldn't exactly reveal the true reason he could never be anything more than a friend to me, could I?

'I guess not.' That was what I finally decided on and I made sure from my tone that she understood I didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Rory understood. She didn't say another word that night. Neither did I.

We were both too busy getting used to Yale and trying to keep up with our large workloads during the first few weeks of our time together as roommates, so nothing much of interest happened during that time.

After finally settling into a routine, I decided it was time for me to find a new psychiatrist. It had become a habit for me after mother had forced me to attend one four years ago. She said it would help me with my anger issues. Of course, she was wrong, but I did find the experience rather therapeutic. It helped to be able to talk freely about my many problems – like my mother and my academic pressures. The one thing I had never shared was my feelings for Rory. Dr. Fletcher was great, but not that great.

Following some thorough research, checking into background and patient recommendations, I booked an appointment with a local psychiatrist called Dr. Jane Samson. Her office was located in Downtown New Haven.

I felt strangely nervous as I announced myself to the receptionist and went to wait in the seating area. This wasn't the same as going to see Dr. Fletcher. I had known him for years and felt comfortable with him. Now I was faced with the prospect of pouring out my heart all over again to a perfect stranger. It wasn't exactly something I was entirely comfortable with, but I knew that after the first session, just like with Dr. Fletcher, it would get easier.

After waiting for around five minutes I was called through to see Dr. Samson. Her office was lit warmly, and was very spacious; the walls lined with plaques and awards and ornately framed pictures. There was a classic brown leather sofa, the type you always see in a stereotypical psychiatric office. Dr. Samson was sat behind her desk, looking over a file, when I entered. She put the file down and rose to greet me, before offering me a seat across from her.

'Thank you,' I said, a little stiffly as I sat in the proffered chair.

'Now then, Paris,' she said, 'do you mind if I call you Paris?'

Dr. Samson was an older woman in her forties. She dressed in a warm, comforting, motherly manner – knitted sweatshirt and a long skirt. Her russet hair was tied back in a ponytail with a simple hair band.

'Paris is fine,' I said.

'Good,' she said, picking up my file again, 'now, I have your file here, but I always find them awfully impersonal. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?'

'What do you want to know?'

She smiled soothingly. 'Anything you like,' she said. 'Let's just get to know each other a little.'

'I just started Yale a few weeks ago,' I said – it was the first thing that came to mind.

'Wonderful,' she said, 'and how is that going?'

'It's fine,' I said. 'It's hard work, but I'm coping.'

'Dr. Fletcher wrote that you're very passionate about your studies,' she informed me, 'almost too passionate, if I'm honest. I understand he often cautioned you to relax a little.'

'I couldn't afford to relax,' I said. 'Getting into Harvard was my dream. I had to work harder than everybody else.'

'But you didn't get into Harvard?'

'No,' I admitted coolly. I didn't like being reminded of that fact.

'How does that make you feel?'

'Angry.'

'And?'

'Disappointed.'

'Anything else?'

'What do you want me to say?' The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them. Harvard was a topic that I really didn't want to discuss right now. The disappointment was still too fresh in my mind and my heart.

Despite my harsh words, Dr. Samson continued to smile at me benignly. 'I want you to tell me how you _really_ feel.'

I sighed. I had come here for a reason. I was supposed to open up here, in the only environment I could, so why wasn't I? I forced down my uneasy, defensive feelings and told her the complete, unabashed truth. 'I feel stupid, unworthy of Harvard, like my mother was right about me all along.'

'I see,' she replied. 'You know, not everyone is destined to go to Harvard. Have you ever considered that Harvard just wasn't right for you? I understand that it was your goal in life, but we don't always know what's best for us. I wanted to be a chef when I was younger, but I was absolutely horrible in kitchen. A disaster. I used to beat myself up over it all the time, but eventually you grow older and it just doesn't seem to matter anymore.'

'Everyone in my family went to Harvard,' I said, trying to get her to understand why I had to get in as well.

'But you're not the rest of your family,' she countered. 'You're simply yourself. You don't need to follow in their footsteps. Make your own instead.'

'I wanted to go to Harvard more than…' But that was a lie, so I let it die.

'More than?' she pressed.

'Never mind,' I said. 'I just meant that I really wanted to go to Harvard. I can't help but feel like a failure.'

'I hardly think anyone who can get into Yale is a failure,' Dr. Samson said. 'From what little I know about you, you seem to have a brilliant mind. Yale obviously thinks so. So what if Harvard can't see that in you? It's their loss, isn't it?'

I wasn't entirely convinced, but I hadn't thought about it that way before either. 'I guess,' I said, vaguely.

'Now I want to talk about your social life,' she announced, changing subjects abruptly. 'What with your penchant for studying, I imagine you don't have much time for one?'

'You imagine correctly.'

'But you do take a break sometimes, don't you?'

'Yes, but not often,' I replied.

'Okay, so what do you do when you _do_ take a break from studying? Spend time with your friends? Go to the movies?'

'I don't really have friends,' I admitted, knowing she would pounce on this topic like a hungry bear.

'No friends? That can't be true,' she argued.

'Madeline and Louise I knew from childhood, but I don't see them anymore since leaving Chilton. But even then, they were never really what I would call friends. Just people I knew and hung around with.'

'Then how do you define a friend?'

'A friend is someone you care about and respect,' I said.

'And you didn't care about them or respect them?'

'I cared about them a little, but it was very hard to respect them,' I said. 'They didn't care about their studies and all they ever talked about was boys.'

'Sounds like a typical thing for girls to do,' she observed.

'Yeah, but not in the way they did it,' I said. 'They would always be hanging on some new boys arm every day. I won't be coy. They were sluts.'

'I see. And you have no other friends?'

'Not really,' I said evasively.

'What aren't you telling me Paris?' Damn, this woman was good.

'I guess,' I said, sighing as I debated whether or not to tell her about Rory. So far the session had been going well and I was already well on my way to opening up to her fully as much as I did with Dr. Fletcher. She was so motherly, I felt secure in the knowledge that I could trust her. It had taken weeks for Dr. Fletcher to get this much out of me.

'You guess?'

'I guess that I do have one friend,' I declared at last.

'Tell me about this friend.'

'Her name is Rory,' I said. 'She's great. She's kind to everyone, no matter how horrible they are to her, and she's smart as well. As smart as me.' I found myself smiling like I always did when I thought about her. 'Smarter. She loves to read books. We have a lot in common, despite our differences. She's confident about who she is and whatever she's doing. When I'm with her, I feel like a better person.' I paused for a moment. 'She's my best friend – the only real friend I've ever had.'

'I'd like to meet this girl,' Dr. Samson said with a laugh. 'You should be her spokesperson. You make her sound like the second coming of Ghandi, minus a certain appendage.'

I laughed myself, softly, but it was a laugh all the same. 'She is special,' I said, hoping that my voice didn't betray me.

'In all seriousness, I would like to meet the only person who has been able to break through your defences. I strongly recommend you stay in contact with this Rory.'

'That won't be a problem,' I said. 'She's my roommate at Yale.'

'You've only known her for a few weeks?'

'No,' I corrected her. 'I met her three years ago. She transferred to Chilton because she dreamed of going to Harvard as well.'

'She didn't get in?'

'Oh, no,' I said, a proud smile on my face despite the fact I was still insanely jealous of her, 'she got in. She just decided it wasn't right for her in the end. I thought I would never see her again after we graduated Chilton, but then fate stuck its nosy head in and made us roommates. Not that I'm complaining.'

'You seem to really like this girl,' Dr. Samson observed. 'But I still think you're holding something back.'

I kept my face even, despite my heart skipping a beat. Who was this crazily perceptive woman? Dr. Fletcher hadn't been this observant on his best days!

'I don't know what you're talking about,' I said, trying pathetically to dismiss her remark. Could I be anymore obvious? Come on Geller, think of something, knock her off the trail!

'Paris,' Dr. Samson went on evenly, 'why did you come to see me to today?'

My mind was still a whirlwind as I tried and rejected several ideas. 'To talk,' I said.

'To open up to someone?' Dr. Samson suggested.

'Yes,' I agreed.

'Then open up,' Dr. Samson said. 'I'm not here to judge you. I'm just here to listen and perhaps give you some helpful advice if needs be. You don't need to fear anything here. You're paying me to listen to your concerns or your thoughts or your feelings. Whatever you need to get off your chest. Isn't that right?'

I nodded, trying to resist the temptation to open up. She had this way of speaking, in her calm soothing manner, and it was actually working. I wanted to tell her. But the thought of being scorned was still there, whispering in my ear. I was scared to admit it. To say it out loud in front of more than my mirror – in front of an actual real life person.

'I'm not here to judge you,' she repeated. 'You don't need to be scared.'

'I'm not scared,' I said, trying my best to sound offended at the comment. I had to admit, I wasn't up to my usual standards.

'Then open up. Trust me, it will feel good.'

I felt tears come to my eyes and I hastily sucked them back in. I would not cry here. I lowered my head so she couldn't see my eyes, staring at my knees. My hands fiddled with my blouse as I debated with myself. She sounded so sincere that I really did want to tell her the truth. One session with her and I was already wanting to confess everything. She was really, really good.

I sucked in a deep breath. I believed her when she said she wouldn't judge me. I already trusted her. I just had to get past my fear. If I could just get the words out, then it would be easier. It would be done. I couldn't take it back. It would be out there. Just one moment – three little words. I could do it. I let the breath out.

'I love her.'

I said it. My heart was pumping a mile a minute. I'd actually said it. Admitted it to a person and not my reflection this time. I risked a glance up and found Dr. Samson regarding me with the exact same motherly expression on her face. She wasn't condemning me. I saw no trace of disgust on her face. I found myself smiling as a pure feeling of euphoria consumed me. It felt really good to say it. So I said it again.

'I love her.' Louder this time. I continued to smile. 'I'm in love with her.'

'I thought so,' Dr. Samson said.

'You knew?'

'I suspected,' she confirmed. 'It feels good to get it off your chest, doesn't it?'

'Really good,' I said, still smiling like an idiot. 'But it doesn't really help me. She's as straight as they come.'

'Have you ever considered telling her?'

'I can't do that,' I argued. 'What if she hates me for it?'

'From everything you've told me, I think she'd understand. You don't have to tell her everything. I understand that it's a complicated issue, even in these modern times. I'm not proposing you tell her all the truth, at least not at first, but you could tell her about your sexual orientation. That's what friends are for, isn't it? Best friends especially.'

'But isn't it a little more complicated when you actually love that best friend?'

'It is,' Dr. Samson agreed. 'However, you said it felt good to tell me, how good do you think it will feel to tell her, even only half the truth? You never know, she might respond favourably.'

'I highly doubt it,' I said, scoffing at the idea.

'You won't know until you try.'

'Hmm.'

'Look, I can't force you to do it, nor would I if I could, but I think it would be a good idea. I really think it will strengthen your relationship and I strongly recommend doing everything in your power to keep Rory in your life,' Dr. Samson advised. 'I think you need her. And I don't think it would help matters if she found out another way. Maybe she would understand, but do you want to risk it? Weight the options Paris. Again, you don't need to rush things. You don't need to tell her about your feelings for her right away. In fact, unless she shows you any kind of indication that she may be open to that kind of relationship with you, I'd avoid doing that altogether. But telling her about your sexual orientation is almost risk-free. It will only help you grow closer in the end. Think about it.'

Maybe she was right….

'I'll think about it,' I conceded.

'Good,' she said happily. 'Well, I think for a first session that went very well.'

I nodded. 'Thank you.'

'You're very welcome Paris,' Dr. Samson said kindly. 'Now, should we organise another appointment, or would you rather do that yourself at a later date?'

'We can do that now,' I agreed.

'Alright then,' Dr. Samson stood up behind her desk and I copied her. 'Would you like a hug?'

'I'm fine thanks,' I responded quickly, instinctively.

'Okay,' Dr. Samson pointed towards her door. 'You can arrange another appointment with my receptionist. I look forward to seeing you again.'

'Yeah,' I turned towards the door, ready to go.

'Paris?' Dr. Samson's soothing voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned to face her again. 'Are you sure you don't want a hug?'

This time I was ready for the question. My instinctive response was to deny, but that was only out of a fear of contact. I've only ever hugged two people in my entire life that I know of. I suppose it's possible I was hugged as a young child, but I don't remember those, so they don't count. The two people that have hugged me? Francesca, my Portuguese nanny and, believe it or not, the elder Lorelai Gilmore. That one was somewhat forced though.

Right now though, I actually did want a hug. Not giving myself time to again marvel at how perceptive Dr. Samson was, I took a deep breath to prepare myself and then said, 'Okay.'

Dr. Samson smiled as she came around her desk and stood in front of me. I felt extremely uncomfortable as she wrapped her arms around me and held me close for a few moments, but after a while the feeling went away, and it was actually not that bad - kind of nice really.

'There we go,' Dr. Samson said as she pulled away. 'I'll see you soon Paris. Remember what we talked about.'

'I will,' I said, on my way out, 'thank you.'

And I did. I thought about it all the way home. I found the idea of telling Rory that I was a lesbian to be rather thrilling, while at the same time completely terrifying. I wanted to tell her so badly, and now with the thought planted in my head, I was having trouble dismissing it. It was insane to even consider it, but I couldn't help it. I imagined myself telling Rory, and all the ways she could respond, some of them completely ridiculous, others not so far fetched.

I imagined her slapping me and calling me a pervert and yelling at me to leave and never come back. That one was not so nice.

I imagined her being so shocked that she fainted. That one was a little better than the first, but still not exactly great.

I imagined her throwing her arms around me and kissing me. Yeah, that one was really out there.

I imagined scenario after scenario, some more terrifying than others, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Dr. Samson was right about Rory. Everything I knew about her, she would understand. It was inherent in Rory's nature – she just wasn't a cruel person. Even if she were disgusted, she would never reject me. She hadn't shunned me when I told the entire school about her mother and Mr. Medina or the countless other times I had tormented her.

But could I actually go through with it? Was I brave enough to take that risk, no matter how minimal it might just be?

I agonized over it all the way home and on into the evening. Rory was sitting at her desk putting the finishing touches on some paper. I was trying to concentrate on my own paper, but the presence of her was making my head spin with thoughts. I could tell her now. It would be easy, in theory.

Yet still I hesitated. How was I going to say it? How do you tell someone something of this magnitude? Thinking about it just made it even more complicated. I could have sat there all night trying to figure it out. Maybe the best way to do it was to just go in blindly?

I stared at my paper, realising absently that I hadn't written a word in almost half an hour. There was no way I was going to get this finished tonight, so I quietly folded the paper away in my folder and then went to go and sit on my bed. Rory was finished as well.

'Finished?' she asked me.

'For tonight,' I replied.

'What's wrong?' Rory came and sat cross-legged on her bed, facing me.

'What do you mean?' I sat with my back against the headboard of the bed, avoiding eye contact.

'I mean you normally don't stop until you're finished,' Rory said. 'Something on your mind?'

'You could say that,' I said, my heart thumping in my chest.

'Why don't you tell me?' Rory shuffled forwards and leant with her elbows on her knees, chin resting in her clasped hands. 'Maybe I can help.'

'It's not really…' I struggled to find the words. 'It's not really something you can help me with.'

'Oh? Why don't you try me?' She smiled encouragingly. 'I might surprise you.'

'It's not that I don't think you could help,' I said. 'I'm just…'

'What?'

I sighed. I had to take the plunge. 'I was debating whether I should tell you something - something really important about me. I really want to tell you…'

'You can tell me anything,' Rory offered. 'We're friends aren't we?'

'I think so,' I said. 'But it's big… I don't want to…' I hated that I couldn't seem to get my mouth to work correctly. I just couldn't find the right words.

'Take your time,' Rory said comfortingly.

'I need to think for a minute,' I said, and she nodded to assure me that was okay.

It wasn't like me to just jump into a situation like this. I normally had a plan, and an idea what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it. I ran through several different ways that I could tell her before finally finding the right one. I took a deep steadying breath.

'Okay,' I said, 'do you remember what we talked about on our first night here?'

'Yeah,' Rory said, 'we talked about why we chose Yale, and then about Jamie.'

'Do you remember when you asked me whether Jamie was my type or not?'

'Yeah.'

'Do you remember what you said after that?' I hoped she understood where I was trying to lead the conversation. It was the only way I could think to tell her.

She thought for a moment, making a cute humming noise in her throat. 'When I teased you? About not liking smart, cute, funny guys?' She seemed uncertain, confused about where I was leading her.

'Exactly,' I said, giving her a meaningful look.

'That's it? I don't understand,' she said, her forehead creasing adorably.

I ran a hand through my unbound hair and sighed. This wasn't working. Looking at my feet, I said, 'Think about it. I don't…' I swallowed heavily. 'I don't like smart, cute, funny _guys_.' As I stressed the word, I glanced up at her through my eyelashes, begging her to understand.

'Oh.' She sat up straight, looking up at the ceiling as she processed the words. Then she did a double take, her eyes widening. '_Oh!_'

'Yeah,' I said softly.

'You… you like… like smart, cute, funny… girls?' Rory stumbled over her words.

I nodded.

'Wow,' she said, looking around uncomfortably.

We sat like that for several minutes. I'm not sure how long it was exactly, but it felt like forever. I couldn't look at her. I just sat there on my bed, hands fidgeting nervously. I wanted to look, to see how she was taking it, but I couldn't make my eyes work. I just sat staring at the same spot.

'Wow,' she said again.

Her words seemed to flip a switch inside me and I finally risked a glance up. She was staring at me intently, like she was trying to _see_ it, that thing that made me different. I wet my lips as my eyes dropped down to stare at her perfectly bare foot. 'What are you thinking?'

'I… I don't know,' she said. 'I'm shocked. I don't…'

It was time to be painfully honest. 'You're my best friend Rory,' I murmured quietly. 'I had to tell you. I've never told anyone before, but I knew that if I could tell anyone, it would be you. Please. Please don't hate me.'

'I don't,' she said quickly. 'I don't hate you Paris. I'm just… stunned.'

Relief flooded into me, easing the tightness in my heart. 'I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,' I said. 'We don't have to talk about this now. I just… I had to tell someone. I hope you understand.'

'I do,' Rory replied. 'I mean, I can imagine how hard it might be. You're very brave to tell me. You must have been so scared.'

I didn't say anything to that. I just continued to stare at the arch of her foot.

'Paris?'

I looked up into her face. She gave me a weak smile.

'Can we talk in the morning? Give me time to process this?'

'Sure,' I said, 'of course.' I felt a funny tickling in my eyes and realised that they had been watering steadily through the entire conversation. I wiped at them quickly.

'Okay.'

Rory got up from her bed and walked over to the light switch. I tried to keep my eyes away from the sway of her hips. I would have to be extra careful about that now that she knew my particular tastes. I watched her vague shape in the darkness as she made her way back to her bed and climbed in. I slipped under my own covers.

'Rory?'

'Yes?'

'Thank you.'

'Hmm.'


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews. Just a small note for you – have faith. This chapter is dedicated to my newly born nephew. He was born this morning. Welcome to the world you poor little bugger. Thanks for reading everyone.

**POV:** Rory.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Four

I was in the back of a stretch limo with Paris. We sat close together, wearing our pyjamas. Up front, Jess was driving, and Dean sat besides him. The two joked together like old friends. I couldn't remember how I got here, or why I was here, or anything other than the fact that I was here.

I turned to face Paris and opened my mouth to ask her a question, what question I didn't know, but the words never emerged. I felt Paris' lips against my own, her face up close to mine as she kissed me. I kissed her back, pulling her down on top of me. Her hands roamed my sides, hitching up my top, her fingers tantalising my stomach.

Jess and Dean looked back at us and laughed.

Everything was vague, unfocused, seeming almost to not exist. Time didn't seem to flow in any linear way. I felt Paris' hands all over me, teasing me to madness, but at the same time it was like I was a spectator, watching it all unfold like an out of body experience.

Paris moved on down to my neck, kissing, licking and sucking, her magic hands finding my hard nipples through the thin pyjama top and pinching. I arched in a mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan escaping through my lips. Suddenly the top was gone, ripped apart so fast my buttons flew everywhere. Then Paris' hot lips devoured my breasts, her teeth scraping my nipples, her tongue doing wonderful things to my flesh. A soft hand slid down into my pants, rubbing me through my panties. I moaned loudly.

Then I was awake, lying in my soaked bed sheets, my face buried in my pillow, which was wet with perspiration. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, taking in one deep lungful of air after another. My whole body was shaking. I tried to wrap my head around the dream, but it was too strange.

Had I just dreamt about kissing Paris?

My hand found it's way beneath the sticky sheets and slowly, agonizingly, I felt the wetness in the crotch of my panties. I took another breath – an extremely shaky one.

'Oh god,' I whispered, pulling my hand away quickly.

Not only had a dreamt of kissing Paris, I had dreamt of her touching me in very intimate ways, and I was aroused by it!

I scrambled out of bed, having to get away from the scene of the crime, and found my way into the bathroom. The cold tiles on the floor felt good against my bare feet, but I needed more. I grasped onto the sink as if for life, turned the cold tap and then dunked my head under the flow of water. I gasped from the cold, but kept my head in place, letting the water wash away everything. Finally I felt secure enough to remove my head from the sink, so I sat on the floor where I stood and ran my hands through my wet hair.

I had to figure out what had just happened. There had to be some kind of explanation for it. I was sick or something. Or maybe it was some kind of strange subconscious thing, a reflection of all that Paris had told me last night. There! That was it. It was just because Paris had confessed to being gay. It didn't mean anything. Nothing at all!

That was how I managed to dismiss my first dream of Paris in more than a friendly manner. I didn't allow myself to consider my wet panties. At the time I couldn't allow myself to, so I blocked that part out.

I sat in the bathroom for a while, solidifying my explanation in my mind, convincing myself that the dream was benign, not a reflection of anything but Paris' confession. Eventually I made my way back to bed. The sheets had dried somewhat, but I could still feel the stickiness all around me. I blocked it out and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep. It was easier said than done.

Despite my best attempts, I only slept sporadically during the rest of the night, in fits and starts, and it felt like an eternity to me before Paris' alarm clock woke us up at seven. It was a weekend, so we didn't have to get up. I heard the ruffle of bedding as Paris rolled over, but I didn't look her way. I wasn't sure how I would handle seeing her face after my strange dream the night before.

'Morning.' Paris' voice reached my ears, soft, with a hint of uncertainty. She was clearly still a little nervous about our talk last night.

'Morning Paris,' I replied, trying to sound as nice and accepting as possible. I couldn't allow my newfound uneasiness around her to get to me. She didn't deserve to be disdained because of my dream.

'Did you sleep well?' Paris asked, but before I could reply she started rambling. 'I slept quite well myself, which is surprising. I thought it would take me longer because of what we talked about last night, but my mind was surprisingly at ease. I'm really happy you understand. To be honest, I don't know why I ever thought you wouldn't. You've always been the most kind and understanding person I've ever known. It was really…'

She would go on and on if I didn't interrupt her, so I said, 'Paris, take a breath.' She stopped talking and took a breath. 'I slept okay,' I answered her original question.

'Good,' she said, 'that's good.'

'Can I ask you something?' It had been on my mind the night before, but I was too surprised to really ask then.

'Okay,' Paris replied, sounding a bit nervous.

'What about Tristan?' I asked. 'And Jamie?'

She laughed with relief. 'Oh, I never really felt anything romantic for them. Tristan was more like a friend, if you could even call him that. I thought for a while that I did like him, but after that disastrous date you set us up on, I was sure that he wasn't what I wanted. It was the date with Tristan that made me realise that I was more interested in the fairer sex, which freaked me out a little.'

'Is that why you lied to me about your date? You wanted me to think you had enjoyed it and it was all you dreamt of?' I was trying to fit the puzzle pieces together in my head.

'Yeah,' Paris confirmed, 'it was just a ruse. I really didn't want anyone to suspect anything.'

'But what about Jamie? You dated him when you knew that you were… you know… and you even had sex with him.' I found myself stumbling over _the_ word.

'Another ruse,' she said. 'I enjoyed Jamie's company and I really, honestly didn't know that I had agreed to a date, but after I had, I couldn't exactly change my mind without arousing suspicion. In the end I decided it was easier to just go along with it. He was nice and I liked him, just not in a sexual way.'

'And the sex?' I had to prompt her.

'A huge mistake,' she said. 'It just happened. It wasn't like I planned it. He was upset and I wanted to comfort him, so I did, and the next thing I know we're naked and in my bed.'

'How was it?' I couldn't help but ask. I had been curious before, but now I was even more curious. I even rolled over to face her in my eager curiosity.

'Awkward,' she said. 'Fast, uncomfortable, and painful. It really wasn't great. I suppose it might have been better if I was into it, but I wasn't.'

'Right,' I said, and then we fell into silence. My burning desire to question her had sizzled out as I looked at her face. My mind flashed with images. Images of Paris' face up close and personal with my own. I found myself watching her lips move as she spoke, my eyes drawn to the way her tongue would enunciate her words. I rolled onto my back again and sighed 'I'm going to have a shower.'

'Don't you want to ask me anything else?' Paris sat up on her bed to look at me.

I swallowed and looked over towards the door to the bathroom. 'I don't know,' I said, already getting up.

'Oh.'

I could hear the disappointment in her voice as I brushed her off and it made me feel guilty, but I couldn't look at her right now, and until I could, I couldn't ask the rest of questions I had for her.

I avoided Paris for the remainder of the day, only returning to our dorm late at night, and then burying myself in a book. She said hello when I got back, but after I picked up my book she didn't say another word. I risked a sneaky glance a while later and she was sat at her desk, head bent over her work.

Sunday passed in much the same manner.

Her alarm woke me up at six on Monday morning. She had an early class, so she was already up and about. I heard the shower running. I rubbed at my eyes and waited for her to finish so I could take my own. When she emerged from the bathroom she didn't even look at me, let alone speak to me. I ignored her as well and went to take my shower.

I undressed quickly. Naked and standing in the shower, I turned the dial, let the water heat up a little, and then dunked my head under the flow. I got pounded with freezing cold water. I shrieked and jumped out of the tub, my body breaking out in goose bumps from the cold.

'Paris!' I yelled, wrapping a towel around my wet body and storming out of the bathroom to confront her.

'What?' she snapped.

'You used up all the hot water!'

'Then maybe you should have got up earlier,' Paris argued.

I stared at her furiously and she stared back, unsympathetic.

'Fine,' I snapped at her, 'whatever!' And I stormed back into the bathroom to take a cold morning shower. If she was going to act like a bitch to me again, that was fine. She could do whatever she wanted!

Though in truth, I thought I deserved to be treated this way. After all, I had ignored her after she had revealed a huge secret to me and I could only imagine how much that must have hurt her feelings.

She was already gone when I emerged form the bathroom after my shower. I quickly got ready in case she came back and then left the dorm as well. I would be early for my class, but I didn't care. I couldn't take the risk of bumping into Paris again.

I decided that I really needed to figure out some way to make things right between us again, but I had no idea how I would do that. Unless I could somehow erase the memory of that dream, I doubted I'd ever be able to look at her face again and not see the image of her kissing me in my head. I had to do something though. I couldn't stand the idea of having to deal with angry Chilton Paris, especially not after getting used to the more open, friendly Yale version I had come to know over the last few weeks having her as my roommate.

I was sitting on what had become my usual bench on the Yale campus, catching up on some last minute reading before my next class, when I first saw him. He stood across the field from me, talking with what I assumed to be a friend. The two laughed and joked together in that way guys do, a sock to the arm and a friendly shove.

He was startlingly handsome, like a blonde haired Jess, but taller and more muscular. He wore blue jeans and a black sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up. I noticed his silver Rolex glitter in the sun as he wrapped his arm around his friends shoulder. Our eyes met. He smiled a very roguish grin. I felt myself blushing and looked away, back down at the book in my hands. I would not allow myself to look up, so I let out a startled sound when he suddenly sat down next to me, his arm falling across the back of the bench, close to my shoulders.

'Hey,' he said, leaning in close to look into my face. I pulled back instinctively. 'What's your name babe?'

'Not babe,' I replied coolly.

With a laugh, he said, 'Right. I'm Ryan.'

'That's nice,' I said. I really had more important things to be doing, so I got up to leave, flipping my book closed and putting it away in my shoulder bag. I had no interest in getting to know Ryan, who, on first impression, reminded me a lot of Tristan.

He followed me. 'Come on, what's your name?'

I ignored him, but he kept following me anyway.

'Don't be like that,' he said, 'I'm just trying to be friendly here.'

I scoffed.

'Wow,' he exclaimed, 'some guy must have really wronged you.'

That bugged me, so I stopped and turned to face him, giving him my best angry face. He didn't appear to be phased by it, but I didn't let that stop me.

'You don't know what you're talking about,' I said angrily, 'you don't know anything about me. All you want is to get into my pants. I've met plenty of your type and I'm not going to put up with it this time. So leave me alone!'

He had the nerve to smile at me as I continued to glare at him, telling him to leave with my eyes.

'With all due respect Xena, you don't know me either,' he countered, 'so don't go jumping to conclusions. I just saw you sitting there all alone and thought, hey, why not be a good guy and go see if she wants some company, but you don't even give me the time of day, and yeah, that pissed me off a little, but it also intrigued me. So here I am. All I want to know is your name. I'm not asking for anything else. Just a name. Then I'll go. Promise.' He gave me a charming smile that a few years ago would have melted me into a puddle of goo.

'Rory,' I said, a bit grudgingly.

'Rory,' he repeated. 'Isn't that a guys name?'

'Ugh,' I groaned, whirling around to leave again. Yeah, you guessed it - he followed me again.

'I'm curious,' he said, matching his stride with mine. I tried to walk faster, so fast I'm sure I looked completely ridiculous, but he had longer legs than me and easily kept up. 'It must be a nickname, right? Rory… hmm… nothing comes to mind… come on, tell me?'

'It's short for Lorelai,' I ground out through my teeth. 'Now would you please leave me alone?'

'That's a really pretty name,' he said, still walking with me and ignoring my last words. 'Would you like to have dinner with me some time Rory?'

'Take a guess,' I said. I was nearing my next class, thank god, so I wouldn't have to deal with him much longer.

He laughed good-naturedly. 'I must have really made a bad first impression. Can we start over?'

'No.'

I arrived at my destination, but instead of entering the lecture hall, I found myself hesitating. Ryan dodged around me to block my way. He continued to smile rakishly at me.

'Come on Rory,' he said. 'I'm not that bad. Give a guy a break. I just want to take the most beautiful girl I've ever met out on a nice date. Get to know her a little. Show her a really good time. Come on.'

I stared at him wordlessly. On reflection, I thought that maybe this was just what I needed to take my mind off Paris and my dream. He didn't seem too bad. A little cocky, maybe, but nice enough. And he was really good looking. What could be the harm in it? It was just a date. I really had nothing to lose. And I felt sure that any distraction from Paris would be a welcome distraction in the coming weeks.

So I smiled for the first time since meeting Ryan and said, 'Alright.'

'Yeah,' he cheered, smiling so much his cheeks dimpled. He pulled a pad out of his back jeans pocket and handed me a pen. 'Just scribble your number down here and I'll call you.'

'Prepared, aren't you,' I observed teasingly, as I wrote down my cell number.

'For just this occasion,' he replied, taking the pen and pad back.

I pointed to the door behind him. 'That's my next class,' I said. 'If you continue standing there, I'm going to be late.'

He ducked aside with a graceful bow, motioning me through. I gave a silent little giggle at his silly theatrics and entered the class. I wanted to just keep walking forward, play it cool, but I've never been good at that. I couldn't help but look back over my shoulder. He smirked at me knowingly, waved lazily and then turned and walked away.

I found a free seat and started to unpack my things, wondering if I'd made the right decision.

I was feeling much more secure in my sexuality now that I had all but accepted a date with Ryan, so when I returned to my dorm, I was determined to confront Paris, and apologise. She wasn't in when I got back, so I started to work on another paper to pass the time while I waited. I had no idea how I was going to explain my ignoring her, so while I ostensibly worked on the paper, in reality I spent more time trying to figure out what I would say to her.

Paris arrived about an hour or so after me. She shut the door behind her, gave me a stern glance, and then walked briskly over to her side of the room and started rooting around in her desk for something.

'Paris?' I tried to get her attention tentatively.

'What?' she snapped at me, not even turning to look at me. She continued to rummage her desk.

'Paris, can we talk please?' I asked softly.

'I'm busy,' she very nearly growled.

'Please?'

'No.'

'Paris, I…' I started to say, but she turned furiously to attack me.

'I don't care Rory!' she yelled at me. 'You can say whatever you want, but I don't care! I don't know why you can't stand to look at me anymore. I don't know what changed. Or even when it changed! And I don't care! So just shut up and go back to ignoring me. I've had enough… I can't do it anymore.'

'Can't do what?' I asked, completely baffled.

'I can't be your friend,' she said. 'I've tried so many times, but I always get hurt! I can't take it. I won't let you in again, just so you can decide to shun me when you start feeling uncomfortable around me.'

'What…?'

She interrupted me again.

'I shouldn't have told you,' she said sharply. 'It was a stupid mistake. It won't happen again. Just… just go away. Leave me alone.'

'No,' I said, adamantly. 'I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry for how I've been ignoring you. It was just harder to accept than I thought it would be. You told me you're gay Paris. I just didn't know how to act around you anymore.'

'Well, I'm letting you off the hook,' she said sharply. 'You don't have to act anything around me anymore. No need to pretend. Just go away.'

'That's not what I meant,' I argued. 'I'm not pretending anything. You're my friend Paris. I don't want things to be like this. You'll always be my friend, whether you're gay, straight, or bisexual. And hey, even if you decide you want to be a guy, you'll still be my friend. It just might take a little time for me to figure it all out in my head.'

'I don't want to be a guy,' she said, glaring at me.

'I never thought you did,' I said. 'It was just an example - a way to show you that no matter what you decide, you'll always be my friend. I'll always be your friend.'

'Until you decide that you're freaked out again and start ignoring me,' Paris opined.

'That won't happen,' I declared. 'I promise.'

'It just did!'

'It won't happen again,' I amended.

'Why should I believe you?' she challenged.

'Because I think you want to,' I said, and I knew this was true. She had confided in me for a reason. I was her best friend. No matter how much she might fight it, I knew she wanted my friendship, and she always would. She stared at me with an even expression on her face, not showing any kind of response to my declaration. 'What are you thinking?' I had to ask her.

She ignored the question. 'I'm still mad at you,' she said instead.

'That's fine,' I replied, feeling relieved that our fight was mostly over. 'I deserve it. I promise, I'll prove to you that it won't happen again. I'll earn your forgiveness.'

'Okay,' she said, still with that damn even expression. I at least hoped she would give me one of her lovely smiles, but apparently she was still too upset with me for that. It was fine though. I could wait.

I didn't quite know how to proceed after that. Our repaired friendship was still rocky and it could all come crashing down with one wrong move. So in the end I gave her a small smile and then went back to working on my paper. When I looked back a few moments later, she was sat at her own desk, scribbling away. I studied her back for a moment before going back to work on my paper.

We ended up talking again later that night. It was starting to become a habit for us to share these nighttime conversations in bed. She had just returned from the bathroom and was snuggling into her blankets when I spoke up.

'Hey Paris?'

'Yeah?'

'Can I ask you something?'

There was a slightly longer pause as she thought about it.

'Okay,' she said eventually.

'I was just wondering if you've ever actually, you know, been with another girl?' My face felt hot as I blushed asking the intimate question.

She paused again. 'No,' she whispered, 'I've never been with a girl before.'

'Not even a kiss?'

'Nope,' she admitted.

'Then how do you…?'

'I know,' she interrupted me. 'I might never have been with another girl, but I know.'

'Why haven't you…?'

She was on top form tonight, anticipating all my questions.

'It's not the easiest thing in the world,' she said. 'I've had a lot of work to do to get as far as I have, so time is a factor. Also, I really have no idea how to go about it. I mean, what am I supposed to do, just walk up to a girl I find attractive and ask her out? How do I know she'll be interested? The odds are she'll just be disgusted.'

'Hmm,' I hummed thoughtfully. 'Have you ever wanted to ask a girl out?'

'A few,' she answered vaguely.

'Anyone I know?'

'Maybe.'

'You won't tell me?'

'I won't,' she replied simply.

I felt a little bad that she no longer trusted me with her secrets, but I understood at the same time. So I moved on.

'Don't you want to, you know, have a… a girlfriend?' It felt weird to use that word in this context.

'Of course I do,' she said, 'but I never had time before. And now, I still don't know how I'm supposed to get one. Am I somehow supposed to know that a girl is gay like me? If I am, then something is wrong, because I can't tell at all.'

'There are other ways though,' I pointed out. 'You could try posting a personal add on the Internet.'

'No thank you,' Paris shot back quickly. 'I don't do stuff like that.'

'Oh, well, there are other ways as well.'

'Like?' She tried to keep the eagerness out of her voice, but I heard it. It made me smile to think of her this way, because it clashed so much with how she portrays herself to the everyday populace. She was just as desperate for companionship as anyone else.

'You could try going to a gay bar,' I said.

There was silence as she thought about it. 'I… I'm not good at socialising.'

'You're not that bad,' I argued.

'I wouldn't know what to say,' she said, 'or what to wear, or what to do.'

'I could help you with that,' I offered.

She was silent again. Then, softly, she whispered 'Rory, I can't… I can't do it…'

'Why?' I thought I knew.

'I just can't…'

I thought she was scared to put herself out there, so I took pity on her. I didn't need to make her say it.

'I could go with you,' I proposed. 'I'd be there to bail you out if you needed it.'

'You'd do that?'

'Of course,' I said, 'that's what friends are for, isn't it?'

'Rory,' she said softly, 'I don't know if I can do this, but… but I'll try, if you promise to go with me.'

'I promise.'

And so it was decided.

Let me just tell you this - I had no idea what was in store for me, but you'll find out soon.


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N: **The first part of this chapter was my original idea for Eternal Flame. It was going to be a one shot, but as I started writing it, I felt the need to continue it. So I went back and starting planning it all out and expanding to make it a complete thing, and not just a snippet. I do have another idea for a Rory/Paris fic, which was going to be my full-length fic, but this one kinda took over. I might just write that one as well after this. We'll see though, depending on how this goes, and whether you're all interested in me writing more. Obviously, as a guy, I know nothing about women's clothes and whatnot. I searched online a little and found something that I think would suit Paris, so those are the clothes I will be describing. Sorry for the wait on this one – I have other commitments to keep. I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for the reviews.

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Five

I couldn't sleep.

It was starting to become a habit, and I was beginning to wonder if I was developing narcoleptic tendencies. Instead of tossing and turning for hours and hours and getting nowhere, I decided, if I couldn't sleep, I might as well do something.

So I climbed as silently as I could out from under my blankets and stood by my bed, uncertain now as to what exactly I could do at nearly three in the morning. My eyes inevitably came to rest on the object of my unrequited affections. Rory was sleeping soundly, and looking so damn peaceful (and cute) that I just wanted to cuddle up next to her. I wouldn't though. I couldn't.

But I didn't remove my eyes from her face either. Instead, I sat down on the edge of my bed and just watched her sleep. She was just so beautiful, what with her perfect everything. She was frowning slightly in her sleep, which I found absolutely adorable. Everything about her was just perfect, right down to the curve of her eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. I just wished I could see those magnificent blue eyes of hers.

The moment, however simple, was amazing. The act of sitting here, watching her sleep, it was one of the most wonderful moments of my entire life. I thanked whoever had decided to pair up Gilmore and Geller as roommates.

Caught up in the moment, I sang softly under my breath, so as not to wake her:

'Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling,

Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand?

Do you feel the same, am I only dreaming?

Is this burning an eternal flame?'

But I couldn't quite bring myself to sing the next line. I just didn't believe it. So I paused for a moment and took a trembling breath.

'I watch you when you are sleeping, you belong to me,

Do you feel the same, am I only dreaming?

Or is this burning an eternal flame?'

I paused again, watching Rory's face as her frown disappeared, replaced by a small smile. I swallowed and sang on:

'Say my name, sun shines through the rain,

A whole life so lonely, and then you come and ease the pain,

I don't…'

I wiped at the tears in my eyes.

'I don't want to lose this feeling,' I said. Uninhibited from social consequences, I poured out my heart. 'I love you Rory. No matter what happens. I will always carry this flame. You're my eternal flame.' I took another shaky breath. 'I love you.'

I couldn't look at her anymore without feeling my heart compress painfully, so I went to take a quiet shower.

I turned the nuzzle to the least powerful spray and as the hot water washed over my body, I thought back on the last few days, and allowed myself to look at them from a fresher perspective. At the time, when Rory shunned me, I was heartbroken. I had spent the weekend beating myself up over my stupid pronouncement. How could I have been so naïve as to think she would react well to the news? But looking back on it, I realised that the only stupid mistake I made was expecting her to adjust to it so quickly. I should have given her some more time before retreating back into my ice queen shell.

None of it really mattered anymore though. I was just happy that she was talking to me again, and that things seemed to be mending once more. I'll admit, I was a little apprehensive, a tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me that she could easily freak out again. I just had to close that voice off and not listen. I couldn't afford to listen to it. I'd been listening to that voice for far too long and it never did me any good.

Rory wasn't going to freak out again. She was going to help me.

And that was another thing. Rory was going to be accompanying me to a club, and not just any club, but one of the homosexual variety. She was going to help me find someone. I felt a little conflicted about this, but the gesture was beautiful. I wanted Rory more than anything, but I knew that I would never have her. So I had to move on and she was going to help me do it. I felt nervous at the prospect. I had never even kissed a girl before, and while I desperately wanted to, I felt like if the situation did come about (and there was a decent chance that it might – much more so than any other social situation I had got myself into) I might just have a heart attack - or at least a panic attack. I was really good at having those.

I finished my shower, wrapped myself in a white fluffy towel, and left the bathroom behind me. I shut the door behind me quietly, not wanting to wake Rory up. It turned out that was unnecessary.

'Hey,' Rory said as I turned to walk across to my side of the room. I jumped and raised a hand to my heart. She giggled at my reaction. 'Sorry.'

'Rory,' I said, letting out a harsh breath, 'you scared the crap out of me. What are you doing up at this time?'

'I could ask you the same thing,' she pointed out.

'I couldn't sleep,' I answered.

'I heard the shower,' she said.

'Damn,' I hissed, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up.'

'It's fine,' she said, resting her head against the headboard of her bed and smiling pleasantly at me. 'I really don't mind. Why can't you sleep?'

'I don't know,' I said, finally getting my legs to work and crossing the room as originally planned. I kept one hand firmly to my breast to keep the towel in place. I was sure Rory wouldn't appreciate a full frontal of Paris Geller.

'Bad dreams? Not tired?' Rory offered a few more suggestions.

'No,' I replied, 'I don't know. I guess… I'm a little nervous about our plans…'

'Why?'

'You know why,' I argued. 'I'm Paris Geller. I'm not exactly known as a social butterfly, am I?' I sat down on the end of my bed and turned a little to face her.

'You're not that bad,' Rory countered. 'And since when did you have trouble speaking in front of people? You're a natural at it.'

'That's different,' I said. 'Those situations are always pre-planned. Debates and speeches and all those kinds of things, I can do those because I'm prepared and they're structured. But put me in a social situation with another human being and I'm a disaster. I just don't know what to say. I'm uncomfortably aware of myself. I feel like I'm a cow on display or something.'

'A cow?' Rory asked with a funny little smile.

'Metaphorically speaking,' I snapped, glaring at her.

'But why a cow?' She continued to smile at me teasingly. 'Why not a dog? Or a chicken? Everyone loves chickens.'

'Why are you trying to pick apart my metaphor?' I ground out angrily. 'It was the first thing that came to mind.'

'Okay-okay,' she said, holding up her hands in surrender, 'back to the point. I just think its silly for you to feel so insecure. You can talk about anything. You read a lot, so there's that, and you also have a wide knowledge of general topics to chose from. You read the papers every day. I'm sure you can think of something to say. And you know, if you really can't think of something, there's always the weather to fall back on.' She said the last with that same teasing smile on her face. I hated that I found it adorable.

'Stop teasing me,' I said, but with a lot less force than normal.

'Sorry.' She tried to keep a straight face as she said this, but a smile cracked out anyone. 'It's just so easy.'

'I know there are things to talk about,' I said, abruptly bringing the topic back to my unrefined social skills, 'but when I'm in those situations, I just can't think straight. My mind freezes up.'

'You really are insecure, aren't you?'

I averted my eyes from her face, staring at the wall opposite me. I felt myself blushing and hated it. I felt conflicted again. I was starting to feel more comfortable opening up to her now that one of my biggest secrets was out in the open. I knew she wouldn't judge me or look down on me for anything. I wanted to reveal more of my true self with her, but at the same time, I was ashamed.

'Its okay Paris,' she said softly. 'When I first met Dean I was terrible - completely pathetic. I made myself look like a total idiot several times. Its just part of the process of dating and I think everyone is self conscious about it. It's hard to put yourself out there. You do feel exposed. But you know, it passes, and you grow more confident. You will as well.'

'Did Dean laugh at you?'

'No,' she replied, 'he didn't. He was really sweet and understanding. I think he knew it was a new thing for me. He was really great about it.'

'What did you talk about with him?' I asked. 'At first.'

She groaned with embarrassment. 'Stupid stuff,' she said. 'I went on and on about these cakes and how round they are. Basically, I rambled about useless crap. And that went on for a while, but eventually, like I said, you get used to it. It becomes easier to talk.'

'That sounds embarrassing,' I said, sympathetically.

'Oh, it was,' she admitted. 'I felt like such a fool.'

'But Dean loved you,' I said, mostly to myself.

'He did,' Rory agreed softly, and we both fell silent as we mulled over the conversation. I couldn't speak for Rory for sure, but I was pretty confident she was thinking about Dean. I was thinking back on everything she had told me, and trying to convince myself that it would work out in the end for me as well. Though the prospect of embarrassing myself like that wasn't something I was looking forward to.

'Rory?' I eventually broke the silence.

'Yeah?'

'What should I wear?' I asked. 'I don't really own anything nice.'

'There must be something,' Rory disagreed.

'Really,' I said, 'I don't have anything designed for going out. Check my wardrobe, you'll see.'

'Do you mind?' she asked, shuffling out of bed and crossing to my side of the room in her bunny pyjamas. She looked really cure in them and I felt myself blushing again, so I looked down at the ground to hide my face.

'Go ahead,' I mumbled to the floor.

'Alright,' she announced. I heard the double doors open and risked a glance up. She was standing with her back to me, hands on her hips, perusing my collection of clothing. I caught a glimpse of her pink panties peeking out above the waistband of her bottoms and quickly looked back down at the floor. My face felt like it was on fire as I heard her humming and erring over my collection, the hangers grating as she shuffled through the wardrobe.

'Anything?' I whispered.

'Hmm,' she hummed again, 'no offence, but whoever bought these clothes needs to be shot.'

'My mother,' I said. 'She insists I have to look like a nice, proper lady.'

'A sixty year old nice, proper lady?'

'I know,' I mumbled, embarrassed, 'it's awful, isn't it.'

'It's not your fault,' Rory said, closing the doors. 'We'll just have to go clothes shopping sometime during the week and find you something really nice.'

'Not slutty,' I said, feeling that my face was never going to return to its normal colour.

'Of course not,' she said. 'I won't make you wear anything you're not comfortable wearing. We'll find a few outfits, I think, so that you have some options. Trust me Paris, when we're finished, you'll look amazing. No girl will be able to resist you.'

'I highly doubt that,' I said.

'Hey.' I saw her kneel in front of me and felt her finger tilting my face up, so I had no choice but to look her in the eye. 'I'm serious Paris. Stop being so silly. You're really good looking, especially when you're all dressed up nice. Don't think for a second that you aren't.'

I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak. The truth was I couldn't see myself that way. I don't think I ever will. After years of having my plainness drilled into my head, it was impossible for me to believe otherwise.

'Good,' Rory said, and then let out a big yawn, her hand rising to cover her mouth. 'Sorry about that.'

'Your tired,' I said, 'you should get back to bed. Sleep some more.'

'What about you?' Rory went to her bed and slipped in.

'I'm going to stay up a bit, dry off,' I said, 'maybe I'll try and find a… a nice club on the internet.'

'Sounds good,' she said, with another yawn. 'Night Paris.'

'Good night.'

Rory and I had some free time on Wednesday, so we decided that was the perfect time for our shopping excursion. We drove into New Haven and found a place to park. It was pretty quiet as we walked through town, most everybody either working or at school.

Rory had been into this part of town before, so she knew exactly where to go. She led me to a small clothing store off the beaten track.

'How did you know this place was here?' I asked her as we stood outside, looking at the mannequins in the window.

'One of the first things mom and I did when I finally decided on Yale was to scope out the best places to find cheap, but classy clothes. We have a well-oiled system for clothes shopping. See, my mom could never afford the high-street brand stuff when I was younger, so we had to look for those little homey stores that only a few people know about. And even when my mom could finally afford the "good" stuff, we decided we preferred places like this. They just have a better atmosphere and you can find some really great stuff if you know where to look.'

'Oh.'

The store she brought me to was small, jam-packed with clothing, but only a few customers. I stared in amazement at the sheer amount of fabric in the room. It was suffocating.

'How do you find anything?' I gasped, not knowing where to look first.

Rory laughed at my expression. 'You just have to dive in,' she said, and took my hand, 'come on.'

I have to say, I was a bit distracted as she dragged me into the thick of it, the feel of her warm hand making me crazy. She started working her way through the various racks, searching for god knows what. I couldn't keep up with her pace. I barely had a chance to glance at the clothes before Rory shoved them aside to look at the next one. In the end, I gave up and let her to her thing. She was a natural.

Finally, she had a few selections draped over her arm. 'Come on,' she said, 'try these on,' and she dragged me to the back of the store to the changing rooms.

I stared at the flimsy curtain that was supposed to hide me from view, appalled, and then looked at Rory as if she was crazy. 'I am not trying those on here,' I said forcefully.

'Why not?' she asked, baffled by my refusal.

'Have you seen this,' I gestured to the curtain, 'how is that supposed to stop anyone from sneaking a peak!'

'Keep your voice down,' she warmed me, glancing over her shoulder. The girl behind the counter was looking at us, but I didn't care.

'I'm not trying them on,' I said.

'Oh come on,' Rory argued, 'no one is going to look. I'll be right here, making sure. I'll hold the curtain closed for you.'

I looked back at the curtain, thinking about it. I really did need to try them on, to make sure I even liked them, let alone if they fit or not. But the idea of changing behind that pathetic curtain, of striping down to my underwear, I just couldn't imagine it.

'Stop being so stuck up,' Rory said.

'I am not stuck up!' I snarled at her. 'Forgive me for having a modicum of decency!'

'You sound like your mother,' Rory pointed out, and with that crushing blow, I realised it was true. 'Look, I promise, I'll keep the curtain closed.'

'You promise?' I asked weakly, giving in.

'I promise.'

'Okay,' I said, 'fine, give me the clothes.'

Rory handed them over. 'Try this one first,' she said, pointing to the one on the top, and then shoved me behind the curtain and into the tiny stall.

'Get the curtain,' I reminded her.

'Jeez,' she called out, laughing, 'I got it. Just change.'

I placed the pile of clothing down on the bench behind me, took a deep breath, and then, after kicking my shoes off, began to undress. I removed my blouse first and folded it neatly away next to the potential new outfits. I kept one arm across my breasts; feeling really exposed even in my black bra, and shimmied out of my pants. I quickly folded them as well and placed them atop my blouse.

The first item was a black strapless dress. When I held it up before my face and studied it, I felt my mouth drop open. There was no way I was going to wear something like this! The fact that it was strapless was point enough, but mainly, it was just because the dress was so short and tiny.

'Rory,' I said, trying to keep my voice even.

'Yeah?' she asked through the curtain.

'Do you expect me to wear this?' I asked sharply, thrusting my arm through the gap between the curtain and wall and showing her the dress. 'Or am I supposed to wash my hands with it?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Look,' I said, shaking the dress for emphasis, 'I've seem more fabric on my wash cloth!'

'You're exaggerating,' Rory pointed out.

'My point is,' I said, but she interrupted me.

'I know. I know it's not what you usually wear, but that's the point right? Come on. Give it a try. I'm sure you'll look stunning in it.'

'I don't know Rory,' I said, bringing my hand and the dress back in to look it over, 'I'm not sure I can pull this kind of thing off.' My insecurities showed through the tone of my voice.

'Trust me,' Rory repeated.

'I'll try it,' I conceded. 'If you laugh I'll kill you.'

'I won't,' she said, ironically with a laugh.

I let that one slide and self-consciously removed my bra, then quickly slipped into the tiny dress. Miraculously, I found that it fit me quite well. I looked down and yeah, as expected, my could see my knobbly knees. I hated my knees.

'It looks stupid,' I said.

'Let me be the judge of that,' Rory said sternly. 'Come on. Out Paris Geller. Let me see.'

I pulled the curtain back and stepped out into the store a little (as little as possible). I spread my arms for emphasis. 'See – ugly, right?'

Rory gave me a wide smile. 'On the contrary, you look amazing. Turn around. Let me see the back.'

I did so, but said, 'you're just being nice. You can see my knees. I feel exposed. And I'll freeze if I wear this.'

Rory opened her mouth to laugh, but stopped, remembering her promise. Instead she said, 'I'm not just being nice. Your knees are fine. And that's what the jackets are for.'

'Jackets?'

'So you don't freeze,' she said, and guided me back into the changing room. She had a quick look though the clothes, before pulling out a chestnut brown leather jacket. 'Here, put this on as well.'

'It's leather,' I pointed out.

'Well done Einstein,' she joked, manhandling me into the thing. 'Look,' she said, showing me my reflection in the mirror at the back of the changing room, 'see, you look great. It suits you.'

'It does?' I asked, peering at my reflection. I had to admit… I did look kind of okay. I wasn't used to seeing myself in clothing like this.

'It really does,' Rory affirmed. 'These are your colours. Black and brown are golden. Cream as well. And if you want to mix it up, I got some red in there, and a little pink.'

'Pink?' I cried, aghast.

She laughed. 'Just a nice light pink dress,' she said.

'Don't joke about this Rory,' I warned her.

'I'm not joking,' she replied confidently.

'I hate pink,' I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

'I've seen you wear pink before,' she countered.

'Because my mother made me,' I shot back quickly. 'Rory…'

'Paris,' she said, interrupting me again, 'look in that mirror, do you like what you see?'

'Yeah, I guess,' I said, a little unsure. I thought I looked good, but what did I know?

'Then trust me,' Rory said. 'Come on, try the rest on.'

With a sigh, I admitted defeat and went back to trying on the rest of the clothing Rory had picked out for me. There was the other pink dress Rory had mentioned, but the less said about that the better. Rory said I looked adorable in it, and forced me to buy it, but I had no intention of ever wearing it. Then there were a few tops, again, not what I would have picked, but Rory was confident that I looked great, so I got those as well. A few more skirts and a pair of leather pants later (don't ask) and I had a whole new wardrobe. I wasn't sure exactly how I felt about some of Rory's selections, but I trusted her.

We exited the shop burdened with several bags and made our way back to the car.

'So, how do you feel?' Rory asked me as we walked.

'I don't know,' I said with honestly. 'I'm just not used to wearing clothes like these… and yeah, I know, that's the point, but it's still a bit nerve wracking for me. I don't want to make a fool of myself.'

'Trust me,' Rory said, once again, 'in those clothes, you could be wearing a red clown nose and a pink wig and still not make a fool of yourself. You're going to blow that club away. Everyone will want a piece of Paris Geller.'

I smiled a little, and said, 'if you say so,' but what I wanted to say was, 'even you?'

Those words never left my mouth though. Those thoughts, dreams, stayed locked up in my mind, dead bolted and safe guarded with laser protection.

'You must be pretty excited,' Rory assumed.

'Mostly nervous,' I replied.

'Hey,' she said, shifting a bag to her other hand and using her now free one to grasp mine, 'I'll be right there the entire time. We'll come up with a signal and everything. If you need to leave, you give me the signal, and I'll get you out. There's no need to be so nervous. It's all going to be fine.'

'Thanks,' I said, giving her smile. 'You're the best friend a girl could ever have.'

'Yeah, well,' she said, smiling as well, with a shrug.

When we got back to the car, Rory popped the boot and we loaded my new wardrobe into the back. Then we climbed into the front and I started to the engine. The radio roared to life and surprise, surprise, my favourite song filled the interior of the car.

'Oh, Eternal Flame,' Rory said. 'I love this song. I had a dream about it the other night. Remember the concert?'

'Yeah,' I said, flushing red at the implication of her dream. 'I remember. It was the best night of my life.'

'We'll see if we can change that on Saturday night,' she said, winking at me.

'Right,' I said, doubting that anything could change that. At least anything that didn't involve Rory.

'It'll be fine,' Rory said again, misinterpreting my response, taking my hand and giving it another squeeze.

I nodded to assure her I was all right.

Rory turned the dial on the volume. She smiled at me again. 'I really love this song,' she said.


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N: **As far as I know the legal drinking age in America is 21, but please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Going off that, Rory and Paris aren't allowed alcohol yet, so that's why I have them drinking orange juice. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

**POV:** Rory.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Six

I travelled to Hartford for dinner with the grandparents on Friday and stayed overnight in Stars Hollow. Mom questioned me on how college life and having Paris as a roommate was going and I gave her the basics, leaving out the fact that Paris had revealed her sexuality to me, and that tomorrow I would be going to a gay club with her.

There was one odd moment that I didn't really have a lot of time to consider at the time, but now that I look back on it, it all seems rather obvious to me. I found a flannel shirt stuffed behind one of the couch cushions, and when I asked mom about it, she quickly changed the subject, babbling in that crazy way she does and dragging me along with her on her wacky word adventure. By the time she was done, I had completely forgotten about the shirt. It was only when I was driving back to New Haven that I remembered.

Could it have been Luke's shirt?

He was the only guy I knew that wore shirts like that and that would have any reason to be in moms house. But if it was his shirt, then what was he doing there that involved him taking off his shirt and forgetting to put it back on again?

There was only one thing I could think off, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Paris and I started getting ready at five. She had been searching online all week, trying to find the best place to go, and as luck would have it, she found one right here in New Haven. We weren't sure what it would be like, so we decided to do a little drive by to check the place out, and it looked pretty good. The building was located in a discreet part of town, which was also a plus.

I was showered and dressed before Paris was even halfway there. After applying some last minute touches, I turned to find that Paris was sitting on her bed, still wrapped in a towel, and staring at her open wardrobe.

'Paris?'

'I don't know what to wear,' she said miserably. 'I've been staring at this wardrobe for nearly twenty minutes and I still don't know what to wear. It all looks horrible to me.'

'Would you relax,' I said, crossing to her side of the room and beginning to look through her closet for the new clothes I had helped her pick out.

'It doesn't matter anyway,' she said, 'I'll still be hideous, no matter what I pick.'

'Be quiet,' I said, giving her a mock glare. 'I don't want to hear it anymore. You're going to look magnificent once I'm done with you.'

'You're just trying to be nice,' she argued.

I sighed. It was a losing battle to try and convince Paris that she was pretty. I felt the unmistakable urge to seek out her mother and slap her silly. And I wasn't a violent person.

But instead I continued to inspect her new collection of clothing, trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. Maybe not something too fancy, I didn't want her coming off as a snob. Simple, but elegant – that was what I was after.

'You won't find anything,' she said pointedly.

'Shush you,' I admonished her teasingly.

She frowned at me (and it wasn't cute at all – I wasn't going to go there), but didn't say another word as I finished my inspection.

'Here we go,' I finally announced, pulling out two items. The outfit consisted of a cherry red sleeveless blouse with lace trimming and a black knee length leather skirt. 'Try them on.'

'Are you sure?' she asked hesitantly.

'Try them on,' I repeated.

'Okay,' she said, taking them and retreating to the bathroom to get changed.

I sat down on her bed to wait patiently for her. Almost as soon as the bathroom door shut, my cell phone started ringing. I quickly got up and went to answer it.

'Hello?'

'Hey Xena,' a familiar voice said good-naturedly. 'Remember me?'

'Hi Ryan,' I said, 'what can I do for you?' I sat down at the head of my bed and started playing with my blankets.

'Are you sitting down?' he asked.

'Why?' I returned, frowning to myself.

'Because I'm about to blow you away,' he said cockily.

'Oh really?'

'Yeah,' he said, 'I'll be coming over tonight, and I'm taking you out.'

'So sure of yourself, aren't you,' I observed.

'Why shouldn't I be?'

'I hate to burst your bubble mister,' I said, smiling with satisfaction, 'but I'm busy tonight.'

'Oh?'

'I'm going out with a friend,' I informed him.

'Blow them off,' he said casually.

'I can't,' I said. 'I promised.'

'Rory?' This was Paris, calling to me through the bathroom door.

'I have to go,' I said into the phone.

'Wait a second,' he said quickly. 'You're sure you can't tonight?'

'I'm sure,' I said. 'Sorry.'

'Alright,' he said, 'how about tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow will be fine, I guess,' I replied.

'Great,' he said.

'Rory!' Paris yelled.

'I have to go,' I repeated.

'Sure,' he said, 'see you tomorrow. Eight sharp.'

'Bye,' I said, and clicked off the phone.

'Rory?' Paris called again, sounding a little panicked now.

'Sorry Paris,' I said, rushing to the door, 'I was on the phone. Are you dressed?'

'I look stupid,' she said.

'Let me be the judge of that,' I said, 'come on, out, out.'

The door open and Paris stood hesitantly before me. I smiled at her embarrassment and gave her the once over. She looked amazing.

'You look great,' I told her.

'Really?' She had her eyes cast down, but she raised them shyly as she asked for confirmation.

'Really-really,' I said.

She took a deep breath. 'Will you help me put my make-up on?'

'Sure,' I said, taking her hand and pulling her over to my vanity. 'Sit.'

She sat and folded her hands in her lap. I quickly went to work.

'Who was that on the phone?' she asked, as I applied a light amount of blush to her cheeks.

'Oh, some guy,' I said dismissively.

'Are you dating him?' she asked.

'We haven't gone out yet,' I said.

'But you are?'

'Tomorrow night,' I supplied.

'Oh,' she said, and if I wasn't mistaken, I detected a trace of disappointment (but I didn't allow myself to ponder that fact), 'what's he like?'

I laughed. 'My type,' I said, with a derisive little smile, 'arrogant, rude, but in a charming way, handsome, and a little dangerous maybe.'

'Then why are you dating him?' she asked with a frown.

'Because I'm a glutton for punishment,' I replied.

'Rory?' I could hear the concern in her voice.

'I'll be fine Paris,' I said. 'It's just a date. I'm not looking for something permanent right now. Not after…'

'Jess?' she filled in for me, softly, compassionately.

'Yeah,' I said.

'We haven't talked about what happened with you two,' she pointed out.

'I'd rather not,' I replied pointedly.

'Okay,' she said, 'but you can, if you want. I'll be here to listen.'

'Thanks.' I finished on her make-up with a flourish. 'There,' I said. 'Perfect.'

She studied her face in the mirror, smiling. 'Thanks Rory,' she said, 'I really appreciate all of this.'

'You're welcome,' I said, and then asked quickly, 'what do you want to do with your hair?'

'I'm not sure,' she said hesitantly. 'What do you think?'

'Down,' I replied, already picking up a brush to run through her hair. I worked swiftly, but precisely, until her hair was a perfect golden curtain that fell down her back, and lightly framed her face.

She admired my work in the mirror, smiled to announce her satisfaction, and then got up and walked to her side of the room to retrieve her black coat. It was a long, stylish wool affair, with beautiful golden buttons down the front.

'Ready?' I asked her, holding my hand out for support.

She took another deep breath to steady her nerves and said, 'I'm ready.'

'Come on then,' I said, grabbing my coat, then her hand, and leading her out the door.

I drove us out to the club and parked in the lot behind the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Paris was fidgeting the entire way. After turning off the engine, I turned in my seat to face her and gave her an encouraging smile. 'Relax.'

She blew a breath out slowly into her hands and then nodded to show me she was ready. We exited the car together and walked the short distance to the entrance. A large bald headed man waved us inside after asking for some ID.

The interior of the club was dark, lit with strobe lighting over by the dance floor, and softer lighting by the bar. Soft music was currently playing over the PA system. Couples danced together, moving slowly to the sway of the music. Several bartenders moved behind the bar, serving a small crowd. A few people sat at tables grouped near the bar.

Paris and I stood in the entryway. I looked over at Paris. She was looking around nervously, biting her bottom lip. 'Are you okay?' I asked her.

She took several deep breaths. 'It's busier than I expected,' she observed.

'Guess you're not as alone as you thought,' I replied, giving her a kind glance.

'Mm.' She made a small noise that I took for agreement. Her eyes continued to scan the room. She had her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

'Let's get a dri-' I was going to say drink until Paris interrupted me, but not with words. She shoved past me quickly and darted across the floor. I watched stunned by the sudden movement, as she all but ran across the floor and slammed through the door that indicated the toilets. After getting over the shock, I quickly followed after her.

I found Paris crouched in one of the stalls, her head bent over the toilet. I moved in beside her and gently took her hair. She retched miserably and I winced sympathetically. After about five minutes I asked, 'done?'

'I think so,' she said softly, sniffing.

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah' she said, 'I just panicked. It happens when I get too nervous. I'm not great with crowds either. Sorry.'

'Hey,' I said, smoothing her hair out with my fingers, 'it's okay. Everyone gets nervous. We can go if you want?' I felt the need to offer her this option because at that moment, I was really concerned for her.

'No,' she said, after some thought. 'I've got this far. I can do this. I just need a minute.'

'Alright.' But I wanted to make sure, so I asked, 'if you're sure?'

'I am,' she replied. 'Can you hand me my handbag please?'

I did and she immediately opened it up and pulled out a toothbrush and some toothpaste. I raised my eyebrows at this. She gave me a little smile. 'I thought this might happen,' she told me.

I laughed. 'Fair enough.'

After quickly brushing her teeth, she followed me as I led her back out into the club. 'Let's just get a drink for now,' I said, leading her over to the bar. 'Orange juice okay?'

'Sure.'

'Two orange juices please,' I told the bartender and he nodded and bustled off to get our drinks.

We sat on bar stools side by side and watched the crowd for a while. 'See anything you fancy?' I teased softly.

'I don't know,' she replied seriously.

'You know,' I said, having a thought, 'if we sit together like this, we might get confused as a couple…' I let the thought trail off.

I saw Paris blush. 'I guess,' she said quietly.

'Maybe I should go sit somewhere else,' I offered. 'I'll keep my eye on you, don't worry, and you just give me the signal if you want to leave. What do you think?'

She thought about it for a long time. 'Okay,' she said. 'Not too far though.'

'I promise,' I said, taking my drink, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, and then making my way down to the other end of the bar.

I sat down on an empty stool and leant back up against the bar. I kept my eyes on Paris mostly, only every now and then glancing around. She looked so scared sitting there all alone that I really wanted to just go back and sit with her, but I kept my promise and sat there and observed. I watched her for around ten minutes before anything remotely interesting happened. In that time she took dainty sips of her orange juice, she fidgeted with her top, and she shifted in her seat constantly.

Then I noticed a pair of eyes watching her from one of the tables. The woman was around our age, maybe a little older. She had fierce long red hair and a modest, but pretty face. The woman was smiling as she watched Paris shift uncomfortably. After about five minutes of this, she slowly got up and made her way over to Paris. I saw Paris tense up when she noticed the red haired woman approaching, and then they were talking.

Paris smiled her adorable dimply smile and glanced down in embarrassment. The woman was confident – she used her finger to tip Paris' face back up to meet hers. Paris was blushing. The woman claimed the seat I had vacated and sat close to Paris. I watched them for a little while, looking for any sign that Paris wanted rescuing, but it never came. The woman eventually stood up and offered Paris her hand, then led her onto the dance floor when she accepted. I was watching them dance slowly, close together, swaying to a slow song, when I felt a presence by my side.

I turned to look and found myself no longer alone. A petite blonde haired girl had taken the seat beside me. She had her hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail and when she smiled at me she revealed perfectly straight, sparkly white teeth. Her green eyes shone like emeralds in the romantic lighting.

'Hi,' she greeted me.

'Hi,' I echoed.

'I'm Dinah,' she said, still flashing that white smile at me.

'Oh,' I said, a little stupidly, 'I'm Rory.'

'Nice to meet you Rory, you having a good time tonight?'

'Not bad,' I said, taking a sip of my drink and looking at Paris and her new friend again. Dinah followed my eyes.

'I think you missed your shot,' she said, not unkindly.

'Oh, no,' I said, 'she's just a friend.'

'Right,' Dinah said, in a way that made it clear she didn't believe me.

I looked at her again. 'No, I mean it,' I reinforced. 'We're really just friends. I'm here for moral support.'

'I see.' I couldn't tell if she believed me this time.

'I'm not lying,' I said insistently.

'Uh-huh,' she said, 'so tell me something about you. Do you work? Go to school?'

'I attend Yale,' I told her.

'Awesome,' she gushed. 'I'm a working girl myself.'

I couldn't help but laugh at that, giving her an are-you-sure-about-that look.

'Okay,' she said, grinning, 'that came out wrong. I meant to say – I work. Just a crappy little retail job, but it pays the bills.'

'Where do you work?' I asked conversationally.

'At Rosemary's Bouquet,' she said, and explained, 'it's a florists. Rosemary is the boss. She's pretty cool, though a bit wacky.'

'You don't know wacky unless you've lived in Stars Hollow,' I disputed.

'Oh, is that where you live?'

'That's where I grew up,' I answered. 'I live with my friend Paris' – and here I pointed her out for emphasis – 'at Yale now.'

'So you're really just friends?' Dinah asked, giving me a searching look.

'Just friends,' I affirmed.

'Well, that's a relief,' she said, with a sigh and a little giggle.

'Why?' I asked, not following.

'Because then I don't feel guilty about doing this,' she said, and then kissed me!

Her lips felt soft and warm and wonderful against my own. Her hand came to rest on my waist while the other steadied her against the bar as she leant into me. I was completely blown away with this sudden development. My eyes remained open, wide and disbelieving that this was actually happening, while my lips acted with a mind of their own and pressed up against Dinah's eagerly. I felt her tongue brush against my mouth and the next thing I knew it was inside, thoroughly battling my own. She hummed pleasantly as the kiss continued. I heard an answering hum come from my own throat, and that was what brought me out of my dazed stupor. I fought against her, pushing her away from me. Her lips broke contact with mine and she gasped.

'What?' she asked. 'Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward? I've heard that before…'

'I'm not gay!' I said raggedly, still holding her away from me, though she wasn't fighting.

'You're not?' she asked, confusion all over her face.

'I have to go,' I said, getting up.

'Wait,' she said, grabbing my hand, 'you just kissed me back, are you sure?'

'Please let me go,' I said desperately.

I had to get out of here. I didn't know what would happen if I stayed and I didn't want to find out. I just had to get away.

'Rory!' Dinah called out as I practically ran from the club.

I ignored her and rushed outside, gasping in a great lungful of air. I made my way unsteadily towards the car, then gave it up and just fell against the wall and closed my eyes. I took several big, deep breaths.

What had just happened?

I had kissed a girl. And liked it. My dream about Paris came back to me and I let out a little sob. What did this all mean? I couldn't be gay, could I? I had dated boys before and loved it - loved them! So how could I all of sudden be kissing girls and liking it? Dreaming about a friend like that?

'Rory?' I heard her voice again and opened my eyes. She was standing right there, looking all hurt and confused. 'Are you okay?'

'Please leave me alone Dinah,' I begged, sinking to the ground and wrapping my arms around my knees.

She ignored my request and came to sit next to me.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to upset you. I thought you were… I never would have kissed you otherwise.'

'I know,' I said.

'Will you come back inside?'

'I can't,' I whispered.

'I don't know what to do,' she told me. 'I'm sorry I made you so uncomfortable. Should I call a cab for you?'

'No,' I replied, 'I just want to sit here right now.' And try not to think about anything.

'I'll sit with you then,' she said. 'I can't just leave you alone out here like this, and it's my fault, so… can I? Or do you want me to go and get your friend?'

'No,' I said, rubbing at my teary eyes. 'Let her be. She looked like she was having a good time.'

'Yeah,' Dinah said, 'she did.'

We sat silently for a while. I wanted her to go away, but I knew she wouldn't. So I just sat there and tried to ignore her and all of the doubts she had suddenly injected into my life. I lowered my head into my arms and cried silently. I doubt I fooled her, but at least she didn't try and do anything to make me feel better. She just let me be.

But eventually I couldn't ignore it or her any longer. So I asked, still with my head buried in my arms, 'why did you kiss me?'

She picked up a pebble and tossed it casually, obviously thinking how best to answer. 'I saw you sitting alone and thought you looked very nice,' she said. 'You're very good-looking Rory. So I wanted to get to know you. But I've never been very good at controlling my impulses. I wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you and I couldn't resist. I'm sorry. I really am.'

'But why did you think I was…?' I couldn't even say it.

'It's a gay club,' Dinah said simply. 'I didn't even stop to think that you might not be.'

'Oh,' I said, and after a little while, 'so I don't… I don't look gay? Or give off a gay vibe or something?'

'I don't know.' Dinah tossed another stone as she thought. 'You looked at your friend a little differently than you looked at anyone else. I thought you liked her.'

'Oh.' _Maybe I do_, I thought, but I didn't say it.

'Do you forgive me?' Dinah asked after a short pause.

'Yeah,' I said, lifting my head and giving her a teary smile. 'I forgive you. I'm sorry I led you on and ruined your night.'

She laughed. 'You didn't,' she said. 'I got to talk to and even kiss a really awesome girl. What more can I ask for?'

'Can you go and get my friend now?' I had to ask. I was starting to feel better, and I wasn't sure how I felt about feeling better about this. Think about that crazy thought pattern for a moment.

'Sure,' Dinah said, 'what's her name?'

'Paris.'

'Okay,' she said, 'I'll go get her.' She stood up and stretched, then looked down at me sweetly. 'It was really nice meeting you Rory. I'm sorry about everything, even though it was the most amazing kiss I've ever had.'

Then she walked away, leaving me with that little nugget. I took a shuddering breath and buried my head in my arms again.

I've never been more confused about anything than I was right then, because it _was_ an amazing kiss.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N: **I'm aware that my Paris had been a little meek so far in the story. It's my interpretation of who I think Paris really is, underneath all of her bluster. I wanted her to be more open with Rory, which is why she has shown her more insecure side so far. However, in this chapter, she gets to be a little bit more like the Paris of the show. I hope you all enjoy.

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Seven

As Saturday night came closer and closer, I grew more and more nervous. I busied myself in college work during the day, and tossed and turned during the night. Rory was a godsend. Whenever I was feeling scared or anxious, she always seemed to know, and never failed to offer me some words of comfort, maybe even a little hand squeeze. I was beginning to cherish those little touches and every now and then I even let myself believe they actually meant something more.

Rory had to leave for Hartford on Friday for one of her weekly dinners, so I spent the night and early Saturday morning alone. The night was spent in much thought. I started to really consider the ramifications of Saturday night. If everything worked out, I might just end up finding someone special. Of course, that was the most optimistic outcome. It could just as easily turn out to be a complete failure (and yeah, you should know me by now, obviously I thought that was the more realistic result).

But I allowed myself to be optimistic for a moment, and considered the idea of having a girlfriend that was not Rory. I knew that pragmatically, I had to move on. Rory and I were never going to happen. But would it really be fair to that potential girlfriend of my future, if I were to date her when I wasn't over Rory?

When I might never even get _over_ Rory?

Certainly, I thought the entire concept of getting over Rory to be ridiculously impossible. I would always love her, so how could I get over her?

My thoughts went around and around like this all night, until in the end I gave it up. I didn't know what the right thing to do was. I just knew that I would never get Rory. And I didn't want to be alone. I was sick of being alone. So I would do it. I would go to the club and I would try my best to find a girl who would take me - unrequited baggage and all.

I was about to go to sleep when I had a sudden inspiration. Rory wouldn't be home tonight. She would be spending the night in Stars Hollow with her mother. So that meant…

I looked over at her messy, unmade bed, which was full of that wonderful Rory smell. I couldn't help myself. I climbed in between her sheets and pulled them snug around me, burying my head in her pillow and inhaling her magnificent scent. I smiled with satisfaction and, surrounded by Rory's essence, I had the best nights sleep of my life.

Rory got back in the afternoon. We went out for something to eat and then returned to our room to get ready for the night. She had a shower first and while I waited, I fretted over what to wear. When she emerged from the bathroom I went to take a thorough shower myself, washing ever inch of my body several times. She was dry and already half-dressed when I re-entered the room.

I sat on the end of my bed and quickly dried my hair, still puzzling over my wardrobe. Once that was done, I committed myself to finding something to wear, but after several minutes staring at my clothes, everything still looked hideous to me. I had nothing to wear.

Luckily for me, Rory came with the save. She expertly picked out a suitable outfit and then shooed me into the bathroom to change. I wasn't sure about it myself, but I trusted her judgement. She told me I looked great and I finally allowed myself to believe her. I knew Rory would never outright lie to me, so I had to look at least marginally decent.

While she did my make-up, I questioned her about the phone call she had received while I was getting changed. When she told me it was a guy, I experienced the tiny pang of heartbreak I felt every time Rory talked about guys. It was something I had to come to accept as commonplace now, so I didn't let it bother me. I casually asked her if she was dating him and when she confirmed that she was, it was hard for me to hide my disappointment. I quickly asked what he was like to try and cover up my feelings, but that proved to be even harder when she told me a little more about him. He sounded like a jackass and I really didn't want my Rory dating a jackass. Okay, let's face it, I didn't want Rory dating anyone who wasn't me, but seeing as that's an impossibility, I'd at least like her to be dating someone I approved off. Yeah, yeah, I know, that's probably another impossibility right there. I would instinctually dislike anyone who was dating Rory just on that principle.

Then the conversation took a turn for the uncomfortable when Jess came up. Rory was dismissive and said she didn't want to talk about him. I assured her that if she wanted to, she could tell me. It wasn't exactly something I really wanted to talk about. I was pretty sure the entire conversation, if it did occur, would be extremely painful for me. However, I was dedicated to being the best friend I could to Rory, and friends should always be there for each other, no matter what.

After that, she deftly finished my hair and we were ready to go. I very nearly had a nervous breakdown driving to the club. I kept myself from going over the deep end by playing with my blouse and twiddling my fingers together. I tried very hard not to think about what I was about to do.

We arrived at the club and after getting myself together; Rory led me into the building. I wasn't paying attention to anything at all. I was just trying to keep myself together as we crossed the parking lot and entered the club. It was dark inside, so it took a while for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I couldn't believe what I saw. It was a lot more crowded than I thought it would be.

I felt my hands start to shake as I stood there, so I clasped them firmly together in front of me. My eyes continued to range the room. Let me explain. I wasn't good with crowds at all. I needed to feel safe inside my own personal bubble, and I never could when I was around a large crowd. So now, confronted with the reality, I felt a typical Paris panic attack coming on.

Not wanting to embarrass myself in front of Rory and the entire club, I dashed as quickly as I could right across the room and into the bathroom at the far side. I barely made it into the nearest stall before I was emptying the contents of my stomach. After a few moments, I felt Rory's hands pulling my hair out of harms way. I was pitifully grateful, despite feeling completely humiliated.

She didn't say a word, just knelt there and held my hair as I vomited into the toilet. I was done pretty quickly, but I stayed there for a while longer just to make sure. Finally, Rory asked me if I was done and I told her I thought so. She continued to reassure me and then told me that we could go if I wanted to. I did and I didn't. I was terrified of going back out there, but at the same time I didn't want to waste all of this effort. In the end, I decided that all this wasn't going to be for nothing, and then asked Rory to hand me my bag. Glad that I had thought ahead and planned for just such an occurrence, I quickly brushed my teeth to get rid of the sick taste in my mouth and then followed Rory back out into the club.

She ordered us our drinks and we sat on stools at the bar and looked out on the dance floor. After a few minutes sitting there, Rory pointed out that we might get confused as a couple. I blushed at the sudden image in my head (Rory and I engaged in a passionate kiss at the bar) and mumbled in agreement. She offered to go sit somewhere else and despite my nervous misgivings, I gave my consent and she left with a promise to keep an eye on me in case I needed saving.

I don't know how I managed to keep myself from having another panic attack as I sat at the bar and took tiny sips of orange juice. Without Rory's soothing presence at my side I felt even more exposed and vulnerable.

After what felt like an eternity, I noticed a gorgeous scarlet haired woman watching me from a nearby table. She smiled at me and got up. I had to really concentrate hard on not throwing up again when she started to approach me.

I lowered my eyes a little and glanced at her through my eyelashes. She was graceful and confident as she walked towards me. I looked her up and down, making note of her impressive, breathtaking thighs and (yes, I'm a pervert) her amazing cleavage. She wore a hot little red dress that fell far short of her knees and really helped exaggerate her extraordinary chest.

'Hi,' she said boldly.

'Uh, hi,' I mumbled, extremely embarrassed. I lowered my eyes even further and felt my cheeks heat up.

My scarlet haired seductress used a well-manicured finger to tip my face back up to meet hers and I felt my blush intensify.

'You having a good time?' she asked me, taking Rory's seat.

'I guess,' I said, words failing me.

She laughed lightly. 'You guess? You're not sure?'

Her laugh pierced right through my embarrassment and I felt my defences spring up in retaliation. 'I'm sure,' I said, coldly, looking away.

I was screaming inside my head, telling myself not to do this again, but her laugh had awoken the old Paris - the Paris who couldn't stand being mocked.

'Oh,' she said, hesitantly, confused. She paused momentarily and I took another sip of my orange juice. 'Sorry, did I do something to offend you?' she finally managed to ask.

There was another pause as I warred with myself. Finally, I managed to grate out a, 'no.'

She sighed. 'Okay, I can tell you aren't interested.'

Panicking, I quickly blurted out, 'wait.' She stopped and stared at me expectantly and I struggled to find the words. 'I didn't mean to be so blunt… or dismissive. I'm… new to this…'

'I see,' she said slowly. Then she stood up and offered me her hand. 'Would you like to dance?'

I took another swallow as I built up the courage to take her hand. Then that was done, and I hesitantly stretched my hand out and placed it in hers. The feeling of her hand in mine was fantastic as she led me onto the dance floor. She pulled me close and I took a deep breath to get past my instinctive need to pull away.

'I'm Alison,' she said, smiling down at me, her blue eyes conveying nothing but warmth.

'Paris,' I said.

'That's a wonderful name,' she observed kindly.

'Thank you.'

'You don't say much, do you?' She was teasing me.

Even so, I still struggled not to revert to form. I shook my head, not trusting my voice at the moment. I might say something I would later regret.

She laughed lightly. 'You can relax,' she said, moving her hands a little along my back. 'I don't bite. At least not without permission.'

I smiled at her joke. 'That's good to know.'

'You've never been to a club like this, have you?'

'Never,' I said, staring at my feet as we moved on the dance floor.

'It's not that bad,' she said. 'Everyone here is really nice. And very understanding. Believe me. We don't judge here, so you don't need to be so shy.'

'I'm not shy,' I argued, my voice taking on a hard edge. I took a moment to gain a little composure and then started talking. 'You're right; I've never done this kind of thing before. Not just here. Ever. I've spent my entire life trying to get into a good college and now that I've succeeded, I thought it was about time I took some me time.'

'That's understandable,' Alison replied, and then asked, 'which college?'

'Yale.'

'That's a great college.'

'I know,' I said proudly. 'What about you? Do you go to school?'

'Actually,' she said, 'I'm a writer. At least I want to be. I work part-time at a nursery.'

'What do you write?'

'Romance mostly,' she replied, 'though I like to add a little mystery to spice things up. I've never had anything published, but I'm working on it.'

'I read a lot,' I told her. 'A lot of the classics, but some new stuff as well. I've read the Iliad a thousand times.'

She laughed. 'I can never get through it,' she said. 'I'm never happy with the translations, so I always give up about half way through. I plan to see the movie though. Diane Kruger is gorgeous.' She gave me a sly wink and I smiled at her.

'I don't know who that is,' I admitted.

'She's playing Helen,' Alison informed me. 'I'm an avid moviegoer, so I like to know who is playing who.'

'Have you seen Mulholland Drive?' I asked.

'Of course,' she said. 'One of the most incomprehensible movies ever made.'

'I love it.'

'I bet you do,' she said teasingly, grinning.

'What's that supposed to mean?' I asked, furrowing my brow in bewilderment.

'You know,' she said slyly, 'a certain lesbian sex scene.'

'Oh,' I sounded, finally getting it, and blushing bright red, 'no, that's not it.'

'Yes it is,' she teased.

'No,' I said, forcefully, fighting through my embarrassment, 'I really do love the film. It's a really brutal look on how love and obsession can twist a person into something horrible.'

'Sounds depressing,' Alison commented.

'I thought you had seen it?' I asked, puzzled again.

'Oh, I have,' she replied. 'I just meant – your take on it.'

'What do you think it's about?'

'I don't think it's about anything,' she said. 'I think its David Lynch being a smart ass. The whole movie is whatever you want it to be, because it's not about anything. That's what I think.'

'So you don't have an opinion?'

'I've never been able to come up with a satisfying answer,' she finally admitted.

'You should watch it again,' I recommended. 'In fact, watch it twice and really think about it. It's really a fascinating movie.'

'I never said it wasn't,' she pointed out. I felt her hands drift a little and her finger brush under my top. She tickled the small of my back and I couldn't help but smile. 'Hi,' she said again, giving me a seductive look.

'Hi,' I replied.

'It's nice to see you open up,' she said. 'You seemed so shy at first.'

I didn't know how to reply to that, so I shrugged.

'Can I ask you something?' she asked.

'Sure,' I said.

'Who was that I saw you with earlier?' I heard a trace of uncertainty in her voice, proving that she wasn't as confident as she made herself seem.

I smiled to ease her fears. 'That was Rory,' I said. 'She's a friend.'

'Are you sure?' she asked me, giving me a searching look.

'I'm sure,' I replied, trying to seem sincere. I wasn't sure how well I did.

'So she's not your girlfriend or anything?'

'I wouldn't be dancing with you if she was,' I said.

'Touché.'

I felt a little guilty not telling Alison about my feelings for Rory, but I didn't want to jeopardize this potential relationship. Things had been going pretty well so far and I was sure telling her that I was in love with another woman would quickly change that.

'How long have you been a lesbian?' Alison asked, out of the blue.

'I don't know,' I said immediately. 'Always – I guess.'

'I mean, how long have you known?'

'A few years,' I said honestly. 'I had a crush on this girl that went to my old school. That's when I first figured it out. What about you?'

'Quite a while for me,' she answered. 'I knew even when I was a kid. It wasn't a sexual thing then, but I always felt a certain kind of pull towards girls.'

'That must have been hard.'

'How so?'

'Just being that young and having to deal with something like that,' I said, unsure now. 'Wasn't it?'

'It wasn't that bad,' she said. 'I was young and I didn't care. I was a little confused about it, so I told my mom, and she was great. She was so supportive and understanding. You see all this drama on TV and in literature, but it wasn't like that for me.'

'My mother would kill me,' I observed.

'You think so?'

'I know so,' I replied. 'I don't get on with her at all. She's always been so controlling and is constantly putting me down. She wants me to be this perfect little daughter, but no matter what I do, she is never impressed. So no, my mother finding out that I'm a lesbian would not be pleasant.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' she said sincerely. 'What about your dad?'

'I could tell him that I'm a terrorist and he wouldn't even hear me,' I said, and yeah, I was a little bitter.

'You're exaggerating,' Alison pointed out.

'Yeah, but the point is valid.'

'So he wouldn't care?'

'He'd be too busy to care,' I said.

'I can't even imagine what it must be like to have parents like that,' Alison said, pulling me closer sympathetically.

'It's fine,' I said, though it really wasn't. 'I get along fine without them.'

'I can see that,' she said, looking me over appreciatively.

I blushed.

'You blush so prettily,' she told me, moving her finger against my skin again.

'Thank you,' I whispered. 'You… you're very… gorgeous.'

You're very gorgeous? _Fantastic Paris_, I thought snidely, _really, top notch flattery_.

She smiled at me despite my inept response. 'I'm glad you think so,' she said. 'I was watching you before. I saw you with your friend Rory and I have to admit, I was a little disappointed you were already taken, but then she left you. When she didn't come back, I thought I might have a chance, so I thought, what the hell.'

'I'm glad you did.'

'Me too,' she said. 'I'm having a lot of fun getting to know you. What about you? Are you having fun now?'

'I guess,' I replied, giving her my own version of a teasing (and no doubt clumsy) smile.

She laughed sharply, and then pulled me even closer, right up against her. She was so close I could feel her warm minty breath as she tipped her face down to mine. I looked up at her, caught off guard, my mouth opening. She pressed her forehead to mine and whispered, 'how about now?'

I swallowed audibly. 'Yeah,' I mumbled softly, my heart racing. She was so close. Her lips… so close to mine… her body pressed enticingly up against me… I wanted her to close that tiny distance and kiss me.

But she didn't.

Instead, she moved back and broke the spell. 'So tell me more about Yale,' she said, 'what are you studying?'

'Um.' My mind was having trouble clicking into gear again after being shut down by her flirtatious teasing.

'Excuse me,' a foreign voice invaded the air before I could find an appropriate response. 'Paris?'

The voice belonged to a diminutive blonde. 'Do I know you?' I asked.

'No,' she said, 'I'm sorry for intruding. You're friend Rory is outside. She doesn't feel well. She asked me if I could come and get you.'

'What's wrong? Is she alright?' I demanded, worry dominating my voice.

'I'm not sure,' the blonde girl replied. 'Will you come with me?'

'Of course,' I said before she even finished. I turned to face my dance partner. 'I'm really sorry Alison.' And I was, but Rory needed me.

'That's okay,' she said, but I could tell she was a little hurt by my sudden need to depart. 'Go help your friend.'

I didn't want things to end like this, so I asked softly, 'could I maybe get your number? Or give you mine?'

Alison smiled, brightening her mood considerably. 'Definitely,' she said. 'Do you have a pen?'

'Um,' I fumbled. No, I didn't.

'I have one,' the blonde spoke up.

'Can I borrow it?' Alison asked her.

'Sure.'

Alison took the pen and the blonde and I followed her over to the bar, where she wrote her number down on a plain white napkin. She handed me the napkin with her sweet, understanding smile. 'Go help your friend,' she said, 'but don't forget to call.'

'Thanks,' I said, tucking it into my purse, 'and I won't.'

'Bye Paris,' she said.

'I'll call you soon,' I said, turning to leave with the blonde. As we walked, I asked her, 'what's wrong with Rory?'

'She didn't say,' she replied.

She led me out into the parking lot, where I found Rory sitting on the floor, arms wrapped protectively around her knees. I rushed over and knelt in front of her.

'Are you okay Rory?'

'Hi Paris,' she said, giving me a weak smile, 'yeah, I'll be fine. I just really want to go home.'

'Alright,' I said, offering her my hand. She took it and I helped her to her feet. 'Thanks for coming to get me,' I said to the blonde.

'No problem,' she replied, before turning to Rory and saying, 'I hope you feel better.'

Rory nodded. 'Thanks for sitting with me Dinah.'

'Bye,' Dinah called, as Rory and I crossed the lot to her car.

I opened the passenger side door for her. 'I'll drive,' I told her.

'Thanks.' She handed me the keys.

I got in the other side and started the engine.

'I'm sorry I ruined your night,' Rory said softly.

'Don't worry about it,' I assured her.

'I saw you with that redhead. You seemed to be having a good time.'

'I was,' I replied, 'but don't worry. You're my best friend. I'll always be here for you, whenever you need me. Besides, I got her number.'

'You did?'

'Yeah,' I said. 'I was a little shy at first, but she was really easy to talk to. Her name is Alison. She's nice.'

'She looked it,' Rory said. 'Attractive as well.'

I blushed. 'Very.'

'Do I need to ask if you plan on calling her?'

'I don't think you do,' I said, laughing a little. I was still blushing, but I didn't care. I was euphoric with my success.

'I'm really happy for you Paris.'

'Thanks.'

We settled into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** Eeek, sorry guys, I was supposed to get this out earlier today, but I completely forgot. Ah, well, better late than never. Hope you enjoy, and remember, have faith. Thanks for reading.

**POV:** Rory.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Eight

The drive home with Paris was spent mostly in silence. We talked for a little while at first, but then both of us fell silent. By the smile on her face, I was sure she was looking back on her dance with Alison fondly. As for myself, I was trying not to think about my kiss with Dinah, and the sudden doubts that had been planted in my head.

I was still trying to deny who I really was.

That night I had another dream. This one was a little different though. In it, I was with Paris. We were at the club, dancing closely, but the atmosphere wasn't romantic. It was tense. Dinah was watching us from the bar. Ryan was there as well.

My recollection of the dream is fuzzy, as they always are for me. I can't remember how it happened, but suddenly Ryan was on the dance floor, pushing Paris aside. I clung to him as Paris fell to her knees crying. He seemed to wrap me in his arms protectively and I sank into him. I couldn't look at the heartbreak on Paris' face, so I looked away, but Dinah's pitying eyes found me. She shook her head at me in disappointment.

Then I was awake, covered in sweat, and I was crying. I sat up in bed and hugged my knees. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. When I looked over at Paris, she was sleeping soundly, a content smile on her face. I envied her for that happiness.

After my tears had subsided, I dried my eyes and curled back up in bed, but I didn't even try to sleep. I was afraid of my subconscious and what it might be trying to tell me. I didn't want to think about what had happened at the club. I was in full on denial mode.

So instead I thought about Ryan and our upcoming date.

I went over what I would wear in my head. I didn't know where he would be taking me, so I had to plan for all occasions. But eventually that was done, and I couldn't think of anything else to distract me, so I got up and busied myself in re-reading _The Fountainhead_. That's what I was doing when Paris rolled over in bed, onto her back, raising her arms into the air, stretching and yawning.

'Morning,' she said sleepily.

'Morning,' I replied distractedly, fixing my eyes back on the page.

I heard Paris going through her morning routine, brushing her teeth, washing her face, running a brush through her long blonde hair, and finally changing from conservative nightgown into her casual everyday clothes. I kept my eyes on the page as she changed, but I didn't even read a word.

Finally, she stopped long enough to notice my odd behaviour, and asked, 'how long have you been up?'

'A while,' I said vaguely.

'Are you okay?' I could hear the concern in her voice and not for the first time, I felt guilty about being distant with her. 'Is it about last night? What happened?'

'I'm just not feeling well.'

'Really Rory? Are you sure it's not something more?'

She wasn't fooled by my excuses, but I kept up the charade anyway.

'I was sick last night and couldn't get back to sleep,' I lied. 'I just want to read my book, okay?'

'Fine,' she said briskly, offended.

With a resigned sigh, I went back to reading. I could feel her watching me for a while, but eventually she gave it up and picked out her own book. We sat silently reading for most of the morning.

By the time the afternoon was upon us, I was incredibly tired. Having not got much sleep, my eyes kept drifting shut as I tried to read. Finally, it got to the point were I wasn't reading anymore. Instead I just stared drowsily at the page for a few moments, before letting out a tired yawn and putting my book aside. I wanted to be rested up for Ryan tonight, so I needed to try and sleep. I cuddled into my blankets and closed my eyes and was asleep seconds later.

Paris, despite knowing about my date, didn't see fit to wake me up at a respectable time. Instead I slept on into the evening. My eyes finally opened again a little after seven. I stared at my alarm clock in confusion, before suddenly realising the implication of the neon digits. I bolted up out of my bed and dashed into the bathroom.

I had less than one hour to get ready for Ryan. My hair was a mess and I wanted to take another shower. I fumbled out of my pyjamas quickly, almost falling over, and then jumped into the tub. The water wasn't as hot as I'd like, but the effect it had on my sleep fogged mind was definitely welcome. I was drying myself when Paris came back from wherever she had gone.

She gave me a curt greeting, which I returned in exactly the same manner as I looked at the clock on my bedside table. It was just after half past seven and I still had to dry my hair, straighten it out, and get dressed.

'Late for your date?' Paris asked sharply.

I ignored her.

I managed to dry my hair, but I still wasn't dressed when Ryan knocked on the door. I looked at Paris pleadingly as I headed into the bathroom to change. 'Stall him. Please?'

'Why should I?'

'Please Paris,' I begged.

She sighed. 'Fine, whatever.' She went to open the door and I quickly ducked into the bathroom to change.

For the date, I was wearing a casual, but smart looking cream top and fashionable jeans. The jeans hugged my figure well and the top was cut a little low, but not scandalously so. It was the perfect outfit for our unspecified date. Satisfied with my appearance, I quickly dabbed on some make-up and then left the bathroom to greet my gentleman caller.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I found that Ryan was staring at Paris like she was the wicked witch and she was staring back with equal distaste. Neither said a word to each other. They just glowered. I made a noise to get their attention.

'Hi Ryan,' I said.

'Hey, you ready to go?' He shot Paris a poisonous look.

'Yeah,' I said. I glanced quickly at Paris as I headed out the door. She was looking at me like I was crazy. I ignored it and shut the door behind me.

Ryan and I walked out of the building in silence. He led me over to his car, a shiny red Porsche, and held the passenger side door open for me as I climbed in. He sat behind the wheel and looked over at me. 'You look good,' he said.

'Thanks, 'I replied, and explained, 'I wasn't sure what to wear.'

'You look good,' he repeated.

'So,' I paused nervously, then asked, 'what are we doing?'

'I booked us a table at Bel Canto,' he said. 'Don't worry; it's nothing too fancy. You like French food right?'

'Yeah, that's fine.'

'Good.' He started the engine during the lag in conversation and pulled out onto the road. We sat in silence for a while. I was trying to think of something to say, but he beat me to it. 'So, that's your roommate?'

'Yup, her name is Paris,' I informed him.

'I don't like her,' he said, as if it mattered.

'She can be a pain,' I said. I was trying to be understanding, because I knew that Paris could be a handful when she wanted to be. However, in actuality I felt a strange desire to defend her name.

'That's an understatement,' he said. 'I've only met her the once, of course, and only for a short time, but she really knows how to make an impression. I didn't even say anything nasty to her. She just started going on at me like she was your mother or something.'

'Oh,' I said, interested now. 'What did she say?'

'Basically she said you deserved better,' he ground out, like it was painful for him to say the words. 'Like she even knows me!'

'Oh.'

'That's all you can say?'

'I'm sorry Ryan,' I apologised. 'I'm just surprised she said that. She shouldn't have. I'll talk to her about it. Tell her to butt out of my business. It won't happen again.'

I know, by now you must be thinking "what the hell are you doing Rory?", but you have to understand that I was in a deep state of denial right then. It was easier to imagine Paris as the bad guy, because I couldn't bring myself to consider that she was actually just trying to be a good friend, or maybe even something more.

'You know,' Ryan said casually, 'I have a little pull around here. Want me to try and get her moved to a different room?'

'What?' I was completed taken aback by his sudden query. It was just so manipulative, abusive, and ultimately, wrong.

'It's not a problem,' he said, mistaking my shocked look for worry about him being inconvenienced. His conceit was appalling to me, but his words had opened up a new option. I could get Paris moved out of the room… it would certainly make life easier for me. I knew it was wrong, but it was so hard living with her - for reasons I had yet to admit to myself, but nevertheless, they existed.

'I'll think about it,' I finally whispered, as if saying it in a low tone made my words less disgusting. I have never loathed myself as much as I did in that moment.

'What's to think about?' he asked rudely. 'She's a nightmare, right? I know you'd rather have her gone. No need to be so polite about it. I'll take care of it.'

I just nodded. I couldn't speak at that moment. I gripped my hands in my lap and stared straight ahead as he drove us the rest of the way to the restaurant. My conscience roared at me angrily, but ignored it, like I had ignored Paris earlier.

Ryan parked us outside Bel Canto and turned off the engine. He looked over at me for a moment, before leaning over and kissing the side of my mouth. 'Relax babe,' he said smoothly.

I nodded again, still not trusting myself to speak.

'Come on,' he said, 'you ready?'

'Yeah,' I said, opening the door and getting out of the fancy car.

He got out and rushed around to my side to take my arm and lead me into the restaurant. The hostess, an attractive brunette, greeted us at the door and led us to a nice quiet table. Ryan held my chair out for me and then took his own. He looked at me across the table, appraising me, and then leant forwards and smiled.

'I can't believe how kind you are,' he said. 'You're actually feeling sympathetic for that witch of a roommate, aren't you?'

'Can we talk about something else?' I asked softly, trying not to cry.

He studied me for a moment. 'Sure,' he finally said. 'Why don't you tell me about yourself? Your hobbies and all that.'

I started to, but our waiter arrived before I could really begin. Ryan ordered us an expensive bottle of wine, but I wasn't paying enough attention to recall the name. While we waited for the wine, we examined the menu. Ryan talked constantly, giving me a running commentary of his thought process, reading the names of his favourite dishes, and possible choices. I was too exhausted, despite my midday nap, to really pay any attention to him or the menu.

When our waiter returned with the wine and asked for our orders, I asked Ryan to pick something out for me. Thinking made my head hurt. He ordered for both of us and then, as the waiter departed, reached across the table to take my hands. 'Are you okay?' he asked me.

'I had a hectic night last night,' I said. 'I didn't sleep well. Sorry I'm ruining our date.'

'That's crap,' he said, squeezing my hand, 'you're not ruining anything. You're here aren't you?'

'Yeah.'

'Then all is well,' he concluded. 'We can leave if you want?'

'No,' I said, giving him a reassuring smile and taking a sip of the wine, 'it's fine. You know, I really shouldn't be drinking this.'

'And why not?'

'I'm underage,' I pointed out.

He laughed. 'Who cares? They know me here. No one will suspect a thing, so knock yourself out.'

'Bring a lot of girls here, do you?'

'Only the special ones,' he said, flashing that charming smile.

'And what qualifies a girl as special?' I looked at him coyly over the rim of my wine glass.

'Oh, you know, the usual,' he said nonchalantly.

'The usual?' I pressed.

He smirked at me sexily. 'A sweet body, pretty face, and a certain kind of attitude.'

'How shallow of you,' I replied teasingly. 'What kind of attitude?'

'Hard to get, is the term,' he said. 'I like a challenge.'

'And I was hard to get?'

'A little,' he admitted, 'but it was your beauty that had me hooked.'

'Such a flatterer,' I said, 'do you expect to get lucky tonight?' Our flirtatious banter was helping me relax and forget about all of my troubles, which I welcomed with open arms.

'I take nothing for granted,' he said, but his gaze told me otherwise. I felt a certain thrill, but it was different from anything I had ever experienced before. Dean never had that affect on me. Jess had, but it was a different kind of feeling. I couldn't quite place it.

While we waited for our starters, I began to tell him about my life, my mom, and Stars Hollow. He listened quietly, making the occasional comment, and so time passed. Our starters arrived; we ate, and then talked some more. It was all very standard, and though we flirted a little, looking back on it, it was incredibly dull. I was going through the motions.

The rest of the dinner played out the same. In between courses, Ryan would question me about my life, and listen mostly in silence when I replied. I realise now that he was also playing the part, but for another reason entirely. He wanted to get me in bed, so he was acting the caring, interested date.

You have to understand that it's hard for me to talk about this. I wasn't being myself that night. I was trying to be someone else, and not even the Rory I thought I was. I was some foreign, blind, foolish Rory that was living in denial, and in that denial, I couldn't see where the night was leading.

So when Ryan invited me back to his apartment, I accepted. I wasn't so blind as to not realise the implications of the invite, but I wasn't aware enough to know how it would all turn out. The old, real Rory would never have gone with him. Not just because having stupid sex with a guy she didn't even really know was completely insane, but because she would have sensed in him a dangerous vibe that was so far beyond Jess or Tristan, it was insulting to compare them to him.

However, that Rory was missing in action, so I did go with him, and willingly followed him into his apartment. He didn't waste one moment. I was soon pressed up against his door, being thoroughly kissed, and I kissed back. At the time, I wanted this. This was the highest point of my denial. I needed to feel normal. I needed to feel him.

His hands roughly tore at my clothing. I heard them rip, but distantly. It was like it wasn't even happening to me. He ravaged me and I let it happen. I welcomed it. He brought me over to his couch and pressed me down. He was kissing me so hard a tasted blood in my mouth, and that's what brought back the real Rory.

I started to panic, realising that I _didn't_ want this. It was wrong. His hand, his lips, everything about it felt wrong. I pushed my hands against his chest, but he didn't stop. He seemed to relish my resistance and increased his efforts. This time I really did hear as he tore my top right down the front.

'No,' I said quickly, trying to get the word out in between his rough kisses. I pushed and pushed against him, but he wasn't going to stop. I knew it. He loved it when girls played hard to get, didn't he. I was crying now, because I knew what was going to happen. He was going to rape me, unwillingly or not, I wasn't sure.

'No!' I shouted this time.

He grinned down at me. 'No need to deny it baby,' he said, 'I know you want it.'

'No!' I repeated, pushing again. 'Stop!'

He laughed and kissed me again, not giving me a chance to protest anymore.

There was only one thing I could think to do. So I did it. I brought my knee up as hard as I could between his legs. He groaned into my mouth and fell to the side in a slump. I pushed him aside and scrambled up and over to the door. I didn't look to see if he followed me. I couldn't. I just ran, all the way out of the building, clutching my top closed.

If he followed, he didn't catch me. I ran all the way back to Yale and the room I shared with Paris.

**A/N:** Just one last thing. I do not condone rape. It's absolutely disgusting and rapists deserve to suffer pain and torment for the rest of their lives. As far as I'm concerned, they don't even deserve death. Just wanted to make that clear.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Nine

Something had happened to Rory at the club. I knew that much, but what I didn't know, was what. She was evasive with me when I asked her about it, and while I tried to be calm, I didn't do a very good job. I was angry with her because she wouldn't open up to me. Didn't she trust me? After everything, she should. I trusted her more than anyone, but yet she held back from me.

I knew it was pointless to try and get it out of her. Rory could be extremely stubborn when she wanted to, so I gave up and settled down to read. She did the same until around midday, when she suddenly put her book aside and rolled over to go to sleep. I watched her sleeping for a while, but seeing her face made me think about all I had confided in her, and that she wasn't willing to return that trust. I won't lie about it – it hurt me a lot.

I quickly left the room, just to get away from her.

I went to the Yale library and worked on my course work for most of the day. It was a relief to bury myself in work, but there is only so much you can do before you need a break. I went for a walk around campus and in order to not think about Rory, I thought about Alison and our dance at the club last night.

I had the napkin with which she had written her number on last night in my pocket, and I fingered it as a walked. I wanted to call her, but at the same time I didn't want to seem needy, even though I was. I managed to restrain myself and when I looked at my watch, I was amazed at the time. I hadn't realised it was so late. I started walking back to the dorm.

When I got back, Rory was drying herself with a purple towel, and looking pretty frantic. I remembered that she had a date tonight with no small amount of anger.

'Hey,' I said, a little coldly. What? I was still pretty pissed at her, and rightly so.

'Hey,' she replied, mimicking my tone.

'Late for your date?'

She ignored me, which only made me angrier. I stalked to my side of the room and picked up the book I had been reading earlier, but I didn't read a word. I stared irritably at the page, as if it were the books fault. I'm not sure how long I brooded, but eventually a knock at the door brought me back to reality.

Rory gave the door a distressed look and then turned to me as she walked towards the bathroom, asking, 'stall him. Please?'

'Why should I?' I felt like a petulant child after I said those impulsive words, but I couldn't take them back.

'Please Paris,' she begged me, and for a moment, she was somehow my Rory, the Rory I loved, and I couldn't refuse her.

'Fine, whatever,' I gave in with a sigh.

I walked to the door, not caring that she was still in the room (I saw her dash into the bathroom out of the corner of my eye), and opened the door. I gave the guy whose name I couldn't remember a once over. He was tall (I had to crane my neck to look up at his face) and had silly blonde hair all styled up at the front. His muscular arms bulged against his black sweatshirt as he stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. I instantly hated him and his smug looking face.

'Oh, hey,' he said cockily, 'I'm here to pick up Rory.'

'She'll be a minute,' I said, not moving from my position, blocking him from entering the room. I didn't want his disgusting cologne to linger in my room.

'No prob,' he said, looking me up and down like I was a pierce of meat.

'What's your name again?' I asked him.

'Ryan,' he said.

'Right. Ryan. Listen bucko,' I said, pointing a finger at him, 'if you hurt Rory, I'll hunt you down and castrate you. Got it?'

He frowned at me, and then laughed. 'Are you joking?'

'Do I look like I'm joking?' I had my stern face on, but he didn't seem to be impressed.

He glared at me. 'Am I supposed to be scared bitch?'

His confidence really irked me, but he was probably right. From the look of him, I doubt I'd be able to do anything, either physically or mentally, to hurt him. He was obviously strong and he definitely came from money. Power radiated from his easy stance and self-assurance. I didn't let my doubts show as I glared right back.

The door to the bathroom opened and Rory stepped into the room, dressed sedately in a cream coloured top and tight, tight jeans. I didn't let how gorgeous and sexy she looked distract me though, because I really didn't like the idea of her going out with this pig. I sent her an apprehensive look, which she ignored as she approached the blond jerk. I started to say something, but before the words could escape my mouth, she shut the door in my face. I stared at the door, angry with her for being so stupid, at myself for not trying harder to protect her. I wanted to go after her, but my legs wouldn't move. She wouldn't listen to me anyway. What could I say to her that would make her change her mind? She clearly liked the guy, for whatever damn reason.

I let out a long sigh and moved over to sit on my bed.

I sat there for a long time, debating with my conflicted mind. A part of me wanted to chase after Rory and do whatever it would take to stop her. Another part thought I should just let her be, and that it would do no good to try and make her see sense. It might even make things worse. I knew that I wouldn't like it if someone tried to interfere in my life without my invitation. Rory obviously didn't want my input in her life.

Eventually, I decided that I had to do something other than sit there on my bed and run my mind ragged in an endless debate, so I got up to find a book to read. I didn't even get to pick out a book though, before a knock came at the door. I wasn't expecting anyone. Curiously, I slowly approached the door and opened it a little to peer through the crack at my unannounced visitor.

To say I was shocked by the identity of the person on the other side of the door would be an understatement.

I opened the door fully and asked, 'what do _you_ want?'

'Huh, not what I was expecting,' Jess said in his usual blasé manner.

'I repeat, what do you want Jess?'

'Where's Rory?' he asked.

'Out,' I replied simply.

'Okay,' he said, and turned to leave.

'Wait!' I shouted out, stepping into the hallway. He stopped and turned to face me, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, an eyebrow quirked in question. 'What are you doing here?'

'Didn't I make that clear?'

'I mean,' I said, glaring at him in annoyance, 'what are you doing here, why do you want to see Rory?'

His face went blank and he just stared at me.

I sighed. 'Fine,' I said, 'be mister cryptic. Just do it somewhere else. Rory doesn't need you anymore. You had your shot and you blew it. Don't come back here.'

He glared back at me. 'What are you now? Her mother?'

'You've hurt her enough as it is,' I said. 'Let her move on.'

'Huh,' he sounded, smirking at me.

'What?' I demanded.

'You like her,' he said, still smirking.

'She's a friend.'

'No,' he said, 'you _like_ her.'

_Oh shit_, was my first thought. How did he know? Was I that obvious? But if so, how come Rory hadn't noticed? My thoughts flew around my head a mile a minute and he just stared at me with that knowing look, daring me to deny it. I felt my cheeks burning, my blush already giving me away, and so I chose not to even comment on it.

'She's moved on,' I said, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand.

'With you?' he asked.

'Don't be ridiculous,' I ground out.

'Okay,' he said, backing off.

'Stay away!' I shouted after him.

'Sure,' he called back, waving his hand dismissively. I didn't believe him.

'Jess!'

He stopped again.

'If you still care about her, why did you leave?'

'Bye Paris,' he said, and left.

'Great,' I said with a sigh, walking back to my dorm, 'just what we need. More complications. Sure. Of course.'

I spent the next hour worrying over how Jess' return was going to affect Rory. It was clear to me that he wasn't going to heed my warming, so the only question was, why had he come back? Did he intend to try and win Rory back? It seemed to me the only possible reason, or maybe it was just my own feelings bleeding through. After all, I knew that if I had a momentary lapse in judgement (which would never happen in the first place, but if, somehow, it did) then I would do anything to win her back.

I had to admit, I would rather Rory be with Jess than that asshole she was with right now. At least Jess truly cared for her (and somehow I knew he did – perhaps it was a kinship thing?), unlike that pig Ryan, who only wanted to get her in bed. And despite being a hopeless Kerouac worshipper, at least Jess intelligent.

But if I was honest, I didn't want her with either guy. I don't think I need to explain my feelings on Ryan, I think I've made them perfectly clear already, but Jess - I just felt that he wasn't ready yet. He might never be ready. In my eyes, he had a lot of developing to do before he would be worthy of Rory.

I think that was why they failed in the first place. Jess just wasn't ready. Not that Rory was completely innocent either, she was as guilty as him - neither of them ready for that kind of relationship.

My attention was ripped away from my internal musing when Rory came barrelling into the room. I barely had a chance to sit up before the door to the bathroom slammed shut behind her. I jumped off my bed and walked over to the door, calling out questioningly, 'Rory? Rory?'

I banged my hand on the bathroom door when she didn't respond.

'Rory?' I called out, confused, my mind throwing up all kinds of scenarios to explain her strange behaviour. 'Are you okay? Rory? Answer me!'

I got no reply, but I heard the shower running.

'Rory? What happened? Are you okay? Rory?' I kept it up for over a minute, questioning her through the door, but her response remained the same. Meaning, there was none. Eventually, stubborn Paris got the best of me, and I yelled through the door: 'Fine! Be like that! See if I care!'

I stormed back to my bed and threw myself face down on the mattress.

Let me explain, before you all start thinking I'm a terrible witch. Of all the scenarios that ran through my mind, none even came close to the reality of what had actually happened to Rory. I thought maybe she had spilt something on her shirt, or fell over and got dirty, maybe. After all, at that time, we weren't really speaking to each other. I thought she was just ignoring me again.

I certainly didn't think she had almost been raped!

I lay on my bed and brooded silently, angry that she was ignoring me so ardently; intensely curious as to what had happened to her. I hadn't actually seen her front, only her (very sexy) rear end (and yes, I can recognise her by her backside alone, and no, it doesn't make me a pervert) as she ran into the bathroom.

I must have lay there for nearly an hour, but she still hadn't come out of the bathroom. I glanced over at the door. I was starting to get worried now. Rory had never taken such a long shower. She was normally a fifteen-minute girl, if that. And also, the water would have stopped being warm around half an hour ago. We didn't exactly have an abundant supply of hot water in the freshman Yale dorms.

My anger dissipated almost completely, replaced with a tinge of concern, I crossed to the bathroom and banged on the door again. 'Rory? Rory, answer me, are you okay?'

Still no reply.

'Okay, that's it,' I said, 'I'm coming in, whether you're naked or not. You hear me?'

Silence greeted my declaration, so I placed my hand on the handle and opened the door. I stepped into the bathroom. Rory was sitting fully clothed in the middle of the bathtub, shivering violently, head in her hands, being drowned by the spray of the shower. She looked up as I entered and when my eyes met hers, I gasped out loud. I was instantly across the room, in the tub, unmindful of the freezing cold deluge of water being rained on me by the showerhead, cradling Rory in my arms as she sobbed.

'Shh,' I shushed, rubbing her sopping back. I noticed her torn shirt and felt my blood boil. I was already starting to realise what had happened and I didn't really need Rory to confirm it. 'It's…' But I didn't know what to say. I wasn't good at comforting people. I couldn't say it was alright, because I don't think it was. Maybe it would be, one day, but right now… no, it definitely wasn't alright. I finally settled on, 'he can't hurt you anymore. Shh.'

She sobbed brokenly into my shoulder; shivering so much I was worried she might become ill. Not wanting to make it any worse, I said, 'can you stand Rory? I need to get you out of this shower and into some dry clothes.'

She nodded into my shoulder and I stood up, pulling her with me. Clutching her tightly, I helped her out of the shower.

'I'll be back in a moment,' I said into her ear, still rubbing her back in what I hoped was a soothing manner. She gave me another nod. I let her go, quickly dashed to get a large towel, and returned to wrap her in its warmth. I rubbed her arms with the towel as she stood there and hiccoughed. 'Can you tell me what happened Rory?' I didn't really need to know, I was already pretty sure, but the confirmation would be good.

She shook her head and sniffed.

'Okay,' I said comfortingly, 'that's okay. You can tell me when you're ready. Do you feel warmer now?' I was still rubbing her arms.

She nodded.

'We really need to get you out of those wet clothes,' I said. 'Do you think you can handle that? I'll go get them for you. All you need to do if get undressed, dry yourself quickly, and then get changed. Can you do that?'

'Yes,' she said softly.

'Okay,' I said, pressing the towel around her. 'Keep rubbing yourself. I'll be back soon.'

She took the towel and held it around her trembling form. I didn't like it, but I left her alone. I rushed to her dresser and found a change of underwear and some pyjamas. I returned to the bathroom and placed the clothes on the floor by her feet. 'Okay,' I repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time (did I mention I wasn't very good at comforting people?), 'change into these, but don't forget to dry yourself first. Call me when you're done.'

I waited for her to reply, which she did with another nod, and then I quickly turned off the shower and left the bathroom. I pressed my ear to the door and listened. After about a minute or so, I heard a faint rustling as Rory started to get undressed. Satisfied, I left her to it and went to get changed into my own pyjamas, and then sit on my bed. I sighed and buried my head in my hands.

I couldn't believe that this had actually happened.

My heart was beating a mile a minute, my mind a storm of thoughts. I wanted to hunt down the bastard who had hurt Rory and kill him, but I couldn't leave her alone. I needed to be there for her. Nothing mattered right now, except making sure she was alright (or as alright as she could be).

Rory finally exited the bathroom and stood demurely in the doorway, still shivering a little, dressed in her pyjamas, with her hair still wet. I rushed up to wrap her in my arms again. She buried her head in my shoulder. We stayed that way for a while.

'Come on,' I finally said, leading her over to her bed, 'sit.' She sat down. 'I'll be back in a moment.'

I went to get her towel.

'Let's get your hair dry,' I said, using the towel to dry her hair as best I could. She sat there and let me work. She reminded me of a mindless doll, and once again, the urgent desire to kill the pig that did this to her roared its way through my mind and body.

'There,' I said, pulling back to give her a once over with my eyes, running my hand through her mostly dry hair, 'that's better. Now then, why don't you get under the covers and try and get some sleep?' I opened the covers as I said this and patted her mattress.

She looked down at the bed and then back up at me pleadingly, 'don't let me sleep alone?' Her lower lip quivered and tears came to my eyes at how broken she looked. I nodded to reassure her.

'Of course,' I said, and patted the mattress again.

She led back and slipped her legs under the covers. I closed them around her and then walked around to the other side of the bed to slide in next to her. She turned to face me and buried her head in my shoulder again. I tentatively wrapped my arms around her.

This was a dream come true for me. Here I had Rory, in bed, held closely in my arms. But I didn't enjoy it. I hated it. I hated the reason for its necessity. I hated _him_. As we lay there together, I vowed to see him paid back in full.

Rory cried a little more during the night, in fits and starts. Neither of us really slept very well. She didn't say a word to me about what had happened, but that was okay. I just held her gently and shushed her when she did start crying, trying to soothe her back to sleep.

Morning came, sunlight slipping through the windows blinds and annoying us into consciousness. I opened my eyes, squinting slightly from the bright light that invaded the room, and then looked down at Rory, who still snuggled into my shoulder. She had her eyes open and met mine tiredly.

'Morning,' I said softly.

'Morning,' she replied, barely a whisper.

'Did you sleep at all?' I asked, concerned.

'A little,' she said. 'Not a lot.'

I brushed a stray strand of brown hair out of her eyes and she nuzzled into my shoulder in response. I kept my hand in her hair and kindly pulled her closer, turning on my side to fully embrace her. I felt her wrap her arms around me and heard her sniffling.

'I don't know what happened,' she admitted, her voice muffled a little. I continued to hold her and let her tell me in her own time. 'I was stupid. I don't know what I was thinking… no, that's a lie, I know what I was thinking, and it was dumb. It was my fault.'

'I'm sure that's not true,' I couldn't help but interject.

'It is,' she sobbed, 'I knew what he wanted. He invited me up to his apartment and I knew why and I still went, because I wanted it as well. I needed it. But then I didn't, and he wouldn't stop. He likes girls that play hard to get. I think… I think he thought I was playing, but I wasn't. He was too aggressive.'

'Did he?' I had to prompt her.

'No,' she said, and relief flooded through me.

'What happened?' I asked quietly.

'I ran away.'

'He let you go?' I needed to see the whole picture.

'I knee'd him in the groin,' she admitted.

I had to fight the proud smile that wanted to come to my face. It wasn't the time of that. Instead I squeezed her tightly. 'It's good you did,' I told her. 'I know you liked him, but he wasn't good. I could tell right away the kind of guy he was. I shouldn't have let you go, but… but I did.'

'It's not your fault,' she argued. 'I don't want you to feel responsible. I was being stupid. Trying to be someone I'm not.'

'Is this about what happened at the club?' I couldn't help myself - I had to know.

'Please Paris,' Rory begged pitifully, 'please, I can't right now.'

'Okay,' I said, and though I was even more curious now, I let it go. At least she admitted that something did happen. I could wait for her to be ready to tell me.

'I'm so tired,' she murmured.

'Get some more sleep,' I advised her. 'There's no reason we need to get up.'

'But… classes…' she argued weakly.

Brace yourself, because I'm sure you won't believe the words about to leave my mouth. 'Forget them,' I said commandingly. 'We can miss one day. You're not up for them right now, and I refuse to leave you alone. So just forget them. It won't hurt us to miss one day.' _At least not too badly_, the scholar in me corrected.

'Okay,' Rory gave in, yawning.

'Close your eyes, and get some sleep,' I repeated in my best soothing voice.

She nodded into my shoulder and settled in.

I think she must have felt better after confiding in me, because she was soon asleep, her slow, steady breathing tickling my neck. I tried very hard not to get aroused by it. I was only partially successful.

I didn't sleep myself. I was too aware of her soft, wonderful body pressed up close to mine, the feel of her legs tangled with mine, and her soft hair delightfully teasing my cheek. No, sleep wasn't an option for me at that moment.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** Short chapter. I'm not going to try and force it, because the only thing that would accomplish is a steaming pile of literary crap. I covered everything I wanted to cover. Sorry for the wait on this one, I was busy reading Robin Hobb's new book, so I didn't write for several days, then spent a few more days trying to get this one to co-operate. I wish it was longer, but it's a long as it can be without sucking. I hope you enjoy it, despite its shortcomings. :p

**POV:** Rory.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Ten

I don't really like to think about the aftermath of my date with Ryan. I was a complete wreck, my body and mind overloaded with the knowledge of what had almost happened to me. I could still feel his fingers on my flesh, gripping me tightly, so as soon as I got home, I ran into the shower. There was only a little hot water, and it soon ran out, but anything was better than the sick sensation of his fingers on my body. I drowned myself in the cold spray, oblivious to the fact that I was still dressed in my torn clothing.

My mind refused to work properly, so I didn't care that I was still dressed, or that I was freezing. I just sobbed into my hands, feeling a strange mixture of emotions, chiefly among them horror, and if you can believe it, relief.

I didn't hear Paris calling my name or banging on the door, so when she burst into the bathroom I was surprised to see her. I hadn't even seen her when I got back, I had been that focused on the shower. She let out an audibly gasp when she saw me, and then before I could comprehend her movement, she was cradling me in her arms. I sank into her gratefully, burying my head in her shoulder. She reassured me with soft words and I felt some of my terror fade away. I felt safer within Paris' wonderful, comforting arms.

Eventually, she helped me out of the shower, and this was when I first realised just how cold I was. My lower lip quivered pathetically as she went to retrieve a warm towel for me. She wrapped it around me and helped to dry me a little. I felt like a tiny child, but I didn't care. When I look back on it, I do feel a little bit of shame about how pathetic I was, but at the time I loved her for it. She took care of me and I would be eternally grateful, despite my embarrassment.

Paris coaxed me into getting changed into some of my pyjamas. She left me with my bedclothes and after getting control of my shaking limbs; I undressed, dried myself, and then put on the pyjamas she had picked out for me. She sat me down on my bed and finished by drying my hair.

When she told me to get under my covers and go to sleep, I panicked. I couldn't even imagine sleeping alone in my bed. I was just about keeping myself together now, and that was because she was here, right next to me, keeping me safe. I begged her pitifully not to let me sleep alone. She gave me a nod and a sad smile and then helped me under the covers, before slipping in next to me on the other side of the bed. Once she got settled, I snuggled up to her, and she wrapped her arms around me.

That night was like a catharsis for me. Safe in her arms, I let it all out during the course of the night, crying softly at times, bawling like a baby at others. I slept very little, but I didn't really mind. I hated to think what my subconscious mind might inflict on me during my dreams if I did fall asleep for a long period of time. Paris held me tightly during it all, tenderly rubbing my back and soothing me with a soft murmur.

In the morning, I felt a lot better. I was nowhere near over it, but I felt like I could function again, and get on with my life. Paris woke up shortly after that and we exchanged morning greetings. She didn't question me about what had happened, but I felt like I needed to tell her. It was a painful experience to relive, but she deserved to know.

I hinted to her that I was trying to prove something to myself by going on the date with Ryan, and especially by stupidly agreeing to accompany him up to his apartment, and she quickly asked me if it was about what had happened at the club. I wasn't ready to tell her the truth yet – I wasn't even really ready to admit that to myself yet – so I begged her not to press the issue, and she backed off.

After a few more exchanges, she suggested we get some more sleep, and I didn't put up much of a fight. I felt lighter and more at ease after confessing to Paris, and so I was easily able to fall asleep.

I'm not sure for how long I slept, but a commotion outside in the hallway was what ultimately woke me up. I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes to stare across the room at the open door. Paris wasn't in the bed – I could hear her voice coming from outside, in the hall, engaged in a shouting match with another familiar voice.

My heart sped up when I heard him, pumping with panic. What was he doing here? Hadn't he done enough? My hands shook as I gripped the blankets around me. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't overly eager to see him again, but I hated feeling trapped and helpless like this. My mother hadn't raised me to be a coward.

And I wasn't a coward. I wouldn't allow myself to be one. I had to face my fear and be brave, so I threw the blankets aside and stood up on shaky legs. It was harder than I thought to cross the room and stand in the doorway. I had to clutch the doorframe as I looked out on the scene, just to keep myself from fleeing back into the room and the safety of my bed.

Paris was closest, blocking him from getting access to me. She had her hands balled into fists at her side. She was wearing a coat and had her handbag over her right shoulder, so I figured she had just gotten back, or was about to leave. A few fellow students had stuck their heads out of their doors to find out what the commotion was all about. I ignored them and focused on Paris.

'Oh yeah,' she said loudly and sarcastically, 'of course, it makes perfect sense. After all, why _wouldn't_ she want to see _you_, after what you did to her? Forgive me for not seeing it sooner. Moron!'

'Shut your mouth bitch,' he replied harshly, 'it's none of your business.'

'None of my business?' Paris cried, laughing bitterly. 'You act like you know everything about her. Let me tell you something - _you don't!_ You don't know her and you don't know me. She's my best friend and I'm not going to let you anywhere near her!'

'You think you can keep me away?' He laughed. 'You're a joke. You're nothing but a tiny little girl. The only thing stopping me from pushing right past you right now is my manners, and they're running very thin, so I'd step aside if you don't want to get hurt.'

'It's not going to happen,' Paris said bravely, but I could tell by her tense shoulders that she was afraid. If he did try, I doubted she would be able to stop him.

'Ryan,' I called out, trying to sound as fearless and confident as possible. From the way my voice croaked a little, I wasn't very effective, but I got his (and Paris') attention.

He looked over her shoulder at me and his eyes betrayed his surprise. His harsh angry expression faded, replaced with a look of concern. 'Rory,' he said, and tried to get past Paris. She moved to block his way and he stopped.

'Go away Ryan,' I said, quietly, but as forcefully as I could.

'I can't,' he said. 'Rory, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. You know that, right…' he trailed off, giving me a pleading look. I believed him, but it didn't change a thing.

'It doesn't matter,' I said, trying to speak as loudly and clearly as I could. 'I can't see you right now. I just can't. Please leave.'

'Rory,' he begged, 'no, come on.' He tried to get past Paris again, but suddenly she held up a can of mace and pointed it at his face.

'Just try it,' she threatened.

He backed away, giving her a sour, hate filled look.

'Go,' I repeated.

He cast me one last sorrowful glance and then turned and walked away.

I let out a relieved breath and Paris echoed me. She turned to face me. 'Thanks,' I said, smiling at her.

'No need to thank me,' she replied, putting the can of mace back in her handbag. She shot our nosy spectators a pointed look. '_What?_ Shows over people. Thanks for the help.' Her sharp tongue quickly shamed our audience into leaving us alone. 'Let's get inside.'

She followed me in and closed the door behind us.

'When did you get the mace?' I asked her when she turned to face me.

She smiled. 'Just now,' she replied, placing her handbag down on her bed and hanging her coat on the back of the door. 'I thought it might come in handy.'

'Oh,' was all I could think to reply.

'You're mad?' Her face was a show of apprehension.

I smiled disarmingly. 'No,' I said. 'I'm glad he's gone. I can't see him right now. But I don't think he intended to… you know. It was just a misunderstanding.'

'Either way, I don't care,' Paris said. 'He hurt you, and that's all that matters.'

'I don't think he meant to.' For some reason, I felt the need to defend him.

'He's a jerk Rory,' Paris countered. 'It doesn't matter whether he meant to, or not, and frankly, I'm not convinced he didn't mean it. Fact is - I get to hate him. He's been nothing but an ass to me. And worse, what he did to you, it's unforgivable. He's a jerk.'

'I know,' I whispered.

Paris stared at me, searching my face, trying to understand. 'If you knew, then why did you date him? Why did you go with him? Why Rory?'

I sighed tiredly and sat on my bed, burying my head in my hands. I felt like crying again, but I didn't allow the tears to fall. I had to be strong. 'I can't answer that yet,' I mumbled miserably.

Paris came and sat next to me, wrapping one arm over my shoulders. I leant my head back into her and she held me close.

'I won't push,' she told me, 'but you know you can tell me anything, right?'

'I know,' I replied, 'and I will, but… I can't right now.' I wasn't even ready to admit it to myself yet. It was there, hovering at the edge of my consciousness, almost a thought, but I wouldn't allow it. Not yet. I needed to live on as if nothing had changed, just for a little while longer.

Even though it had.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this. I do not own Lost and Delirious either, so don't sue me please.

**A/N:** This took a while to get right, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I struggled at the beginning, but the last thousand words really came quite naturally. I love the movie I use in this chapter, and I really recommend it to anyone who hasn't already seen it. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for the continued reviews, they really give me great incentive to write more, so keep them coming. Thanks! You guys rule!

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Eleven

I was amazed that Rory actually managed to fall soundly asleep after everything that had happened to her last night. I, on the other hand, couldn't relax enough to fall into any kind of restfulness. I started to think about what would happen if that jerk showed up at our door looking for Rory. I wasn't sure if he would, but if he did, I didn't think I'd be able to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to do. This thought kept me awake for nearly an hour before I finally decided to do something about it.

I eased out of bed as silently as I could, so as not to wake Rory, and then quickly, and quietly, got dressed in some street clothes. I shimmied into my coat and grabbed my handbag before slipping out of the room, the door shutting mutely behind me.

I wasn't entirely comfortable about leaving Rory behind, alone in the dorm, but my errand could not wait. We needed some extra protection, and I though I didn't know where exactly I would find that something extra, I knew that I would.

As it turned out, it was a good job this thought had occurred to me, because when I returned to the dorm, I was just in time to intercept the pig. I had just opened the door when I caught sight of him walking down the hall towards me. I quickly turned to face him, forgetting to close the door in the process, and strode down the corridor to bar his passage.

'What the hell do you think you're doing here?' I challenged him. I gave him my best intimidating Paris glare, but he wasn't affected. Damn it, since when did that stop working?

'Get out of my way,' he replied, not stopping.

I spread my arms out and squared my jaw. 'I'm not letting you past, so you might as well turn around and get out of here.'

He stopped, but didn't leave. 'You don't want to do this,' he cautioned me, and I wanted to slap him for how calm he was. He shouldn't be calm! Not after what he'd done!

'Why? What are you going to do? Hit me?' I dared him.

He narrowed his stupid little eyes at me. 'Despite what you might think,' he said, quite coolly, 'I don't hit girls. This is all a big misunderstanding.'

'_Really?_' I said, my tone conveying my disbelief.

'Look,' he began, but I didn't let him speak. I didn't need to hear his excuses and lies.

'I don't care!' I shouted. 'You don't get to explain! There is no explanation that will excuse what you did! You're a disgusting, vile little pig, and I hope someday you know what it's like to feel as helpless and defenceless as you made Rory feel last night!'

'Shut up!' He yelled back, his calm façade finally cracking, and revealing his evil underbelly. 'You have no idea what happened last night!'

I was vaguely aware that our stand off had attracted an audience, but that didn't stop me from laying into him. 'I have every idea you ass. Rory told me all about it.'

'She got it wrong!'

'Oh really?' I laughed loudly, staring at him in incredulity, my mind shocked at his arrogant idiocy. 'So she wasn't there? It was some other Rory, was it? She just heard about it and got confused, thought it was her? Sure.'

'Listen bitch,' he growled, 'I just want to talk to her. Explain. This has nothing to do with you. It's between me and Rory.'

'No,' I said, defiantly, 'I'm between you and Rory, and that is _not _going to change. Comprende?'

I saw the veins in his neck bulge as he tried to hold back his anger. I slipped my hand into my purse and felt my reassuring backup. 'She'll want to speak to me,' he argued.

'Oh yeah,' I said sardonically, 'of course, it makes perfect sense. After all, why _wouldn't_ she want to see _you_, after what you did to her? Forgive me for not seeing it sooner. Moron!' I couldn't believe the audacity (not to mention stupidity) of this guy. What the hell had Rory seen in him?

He tried to dismiss me from the situation, but I quickly set him straight. Rory was my business. I wasn't going to let him anywhere near her, ever, ever again. So he tried to threaten me. I wasn't surprised. I'd been waiting for it, but that didn't stop me from being afraid. I had my backup, but there was no guarantee it would help me. He _was_ a big guy, and despite his nancy rich boy aura, he looked strong.

Then Rory announced her presence. She called out his name, and I hated the way it sounded. She shouldn't have to think his name, let alone say it. She told him to leave (several times), but he was stubbornly resilient. It took me whipping out the can of mace I had purchased for protection for him to finally get the picture. He left with his tail between his legs – at least for now. I sincerely hoped he would not be back, but I wouldn't put it past him to try again sometime.

Rory thanked me for helping and I assured her it was fine. We left the corridor behind and entered our shared dorm. I shut the door behind us, put my handbag on my bed and removed my coat while Rory questioned me about the mace. After that was taken care of, we ended up having a little heart to heart about Ryan.

I couldn't understand it, but for some reason Rory kept trying to make up excuses for his behaviour. As far as I was concerned, nothing could excuse what he did. It didn't matter whether he was a nice guy or not. She finally admitted that she knew he was jerk, but that just confused me all the more. I asked her why she had dated him if she knew what kind of person he was, but she wouldn't tell me. Yet. I knew she would, so I didn't try and get it out of her. I could be patient, for a little while.

I made sure she knew that.

We sat together on the end of her bed for a while, silently. I was just enjoying the feel of her body pressing against mine. She was so warm, I could smell her particular scent, and it was magical. I wanted to stay that way forever, but I knew that I couldn't, and the longer we sat that way, the harder it would be when we finally separated. So I broke the embrace and moved over to my side of the room.

She followed me with her eyes, no doubt confused by my sudden movement. I turned to face her and smiled reassuringly. 'Hey,' I said, 'why don't we do something special? Take our minds off everything. Just have a Rory and Paris night, pretend like no one else in the world exists.'

I watched as her face broke out in a happy grin. 'Okay,' she said, 'what did you have in mind?'

'Um,' I hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of something.

It had to be something we could do in our dorm room, because I didn't want anyone to interfere. Our dorm would be the only thing that existed tonight. So that narrowed things down considerably. We could read, but that was too much of a one-person activity. Finally, it struck me.

'How about we have a movie night?' I proposed. 'You and your mom used to do that, didn't you? What do you think?'

'I think that's a great idea,' she replied, jumping up off her bed and rushing over to her movie collection. She had brought a TV, DVD player and what looked like every DVD she owned to Yale with her when she moved. The TV had been installed on a stand that stuck out from the wall. Underneath that she had shelved her movie collection, which she was now rummaging through, mumbling to herself.

'Rory?' I called to get her attention.

'Yeah?' She didn't turn around or stop what she was doing.

'Do you mind if I pick one of the movies?' I asked.

She finally stopped and swivelled to face me. 'You brought some movies?'

'Not exactly,' I said. 'I was going to rent it.'

'Oh, what movie? Maybe I have it…'

'Let me see,' I said, moving over to have a look. I did a quick scan, but the movie I had in mind proved to be missing. 'Nope, you don't have it here.'

'Oh.'

'It's fine,' I said, standing up straight again. 'I'll just go get it. I'll be back soon.'

'Wait.' Rory got up as well and started looking through her wardrobe. 'I'll come with you. We need to get munchies.'

'Are you sure?' I asked with concern. I wanted today to be a lazy, relaxing bed rest day for Rory. 'I can get the munchies as well.'

'No offence,' Rory said, smiling disarmingly, 'but I don't trust your munchies buying expertise. My mom and me are masters.'

'Well…'

'Paris?' she interrupted me before I could argue. 'I just really want to get out. Please. I can't stay cooped up in here all day. I won't let him reduce me to living like a turtle.'

'Okay.' I gave in. 'But I'm getting the movie alone. I want it to be a surprise.'

'Fair enough. I'll just be a minute.'

Rory grabbed a quick outfit and retreated to the bathroom to change. A few minutes later she was ready, dressed in a simple skirt and a long sleeved top, which she no doubt picked out to hide the bruises that had developed on her arms. I grabbed my purse and then we set off for the local movie store.

We took my car and I drove into New Haven.

While Rory shopped for munchies, I approached the movie rental counter and asked the girl behind the desk if they had the film I wanted. They did. We didn't have a membership with them yet, but once that was sorted, I got the film and left the store.

I sat in the drivers seat and went to put the DVD in my handbag, when I noticed the napkin with Alison's phone number written on it. In all the chaos of the night before and today, I had completely forgotten about her, but now it all came flooding back to me. My heart started pounding as I took the napkin out and studied the digits written in Alison's own hand. I was overcome with the need to call her.

Rory would probably be waiting for me outside the convenience store by now, but I didn't care. It wouldn't hurt her to wait a while longer. I had to do this now, before I lost my nerve. Fumbling with my cell phone, I finally managed to input the correct number, and with my hands shaking, I held the phone up to my ear and listened to it ring. It seemed to go on forever, but just when I was going to give up, she answered.

'Hello?'

'Hi,' I said, my voice cracking nervously. 'Um, it's Paris, from the… club.'

'Hi. I'm glad you called.'

My heart fluttered at her words. I cleared my throat. 'How are you?' I asked.

'Right now? Oh, I'm great. You?'

'I'm good,' I said. I paused uncertainly, not sure how to continue. This definitely wasn't my forte.

I could actually hear her smiling through the phone when she asked, 'why did you call?'

'Um,' I cleared my throat again, nervously, 'I called…' _Come on Paris_, I berated myself, _you've been through this. You know she likes you. Why are you being so shy? Just spit it out! Ask her!_ 'I called to ask… ask if you would… like to go out… sometime…maybe?'

'I would love to.'

'…yeah?' I hated how surprised I sounded, but it was done, and I couldn't take it back.

Alison laughed, not unkindly (see, progress, I was beginning to spot those things), and assured me with, 'Absolutely. How about this Friday night?'

'Yeah,' I said, 'that sounds great. Friday.'

'Friday it is. Hey, I don't mean to be rude or dismissive or anything, but I'm actually in the middle of something. I've got your number now, so I'll call you during the week and we can figure it all out, okay?'

'Oh, sure,' I replied.

'I really am glad you called,' she repeated. 'I'll call you soon. Bye.'

'Bye.'

I smiled to myself happily as I put the phone and her number back into my purse. I had a date, on Friday night, with Alison. I had a date! Paris Geller actually had a date. I couldn't stop smiling as I started the car and drove the short distance over to the convenience store to pick up Rory.

She noticed my uplifted demeanour immediately. 'What?' she asked, smiling at me in bemusement.

'Nothing,' I said dismissively. I didn't want to rub her face in my dating success. I tried to erase all traces of happiness from my face.

'Paris,' she said, 'you're not very good at subterfuge, you know. What's got you in such a good mood?'

I looked away, out of the window, feeling guilty now.

'Paris,' she said insistently, 'I'm not going to be mad at you for being happy. Just because I'm not exactly feeling great right now, doesn't mean I want you to be miserable. So tell me, what is it?'

'You're sure?' I pressed.

'Positive.'

'I called Alison,' I announced, and I couldn't help the grin that came to my face, 'we're going out on Friday.'

'That's great Paris,' Rory said, and I could tell she really didn't mind, and that she was happy for me.

'Yeah, it is, isn't it.' It wasn't a question.

Rory looked out of her window as I started the car again. I could tell she was starting to wallow, her brave girl act stumbling, so I tried to distract her.

'What munchies did you get?' I asked, hoping the topic would keep her occupied enough to forget her current woes.

The inquiry seemed to do the trick as Rory turned her head to face me and started to list off the insane amount of sweets, coffees, cakes, and whatnot, that she had purchased for the two of us. As she talked and talked, I started to think it wouldn't be humanly possible for us to consume all of that junk, and by the end I was convinced we wouldn't, but I didn't care because Rory seemed to have forgotten her almost slump. That was all that mattered. I'd OD on sweeties if that were what it took to keep her spirits up.

A nasty surprise waited for us when we arrived back at the dorms.

I saw Rory stiffen beside me as she took in the form of the person leaning against the wall by our door.

He kicked off from the wall and turned to face us fully.

'Jess?'

'Hey,' he said casually, as if it was just a chance meeting on the street.

'What are you doing here?' Rory whispered in disbelief.

'We need to talk,' was all he said.

'I don't think she wants to talk to you,' I said, stepping between Rory and a guy once again. Granted, I didn't hate this one half as much as the other (or at all, if I was honest – I just hated how Rory felt about him).

'No,' Rory interrupted me, 'it's okay Paris. I'll talk to him.'

'What?' I couldn't believe she actually wanted to talk to him, after what he did to her. 'Rory, are you serious? What could he possibly say that could - '

'Paris,' Rory said firmly, and I shut up to listen. 'I need to talk to Jess alone. He's right – we do need to talk. I'll be okay, I promise. Just go inside. I'll be in soon.'

I frowned at her and she met my gaze unflinchingly with her stern face. She wasn't going to change her mind, so I gave in, but not before asking, 'are you sure?'

'I am.'

'Okay,' I said, 'I'll be right in here. Yell if you need me.' I walked past Jess, but stopped before I opened the door and whispered to him. 'Don't hurt her anymore than you already have.'

'Wouldn't dream of it,' he replied, and though the words were somewhat sarcastic, his tone wasn't.

I shut the door behind me and let out a sigh. Would life ever be simple for us? I somehow seriously doubted it.

I struggled not to press my ear to the door and listen in on their conversation, but ultimately I managed not to by moving over to sit on my bed. I would respect Rory's wishes. Despite this, I kept my eyes locked on the door, and my ears open in case she shouted for me.

She didn't.

When she finally entered the room, she was alone.

'Has he gone?' I asked, getting up and approaching her. She looked forlorn and weary, so I offered her my arms and she moved into my embrace appreciatively, resting her head on my shoulder.

'He's gone,' she answered softly.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'Not really,' she replied. 'Its… its done. Jess and I… we're done…'

'Really?'

'Yeah. Really. We've got closure now, so… yeah. We're done.'

'That's good then,' I said, perhaps stupidly, but really, how's a person supposed to respond in a situation like that?

Rory half laughed, half cried into my shoulder. 'Can we just watch your movie?'

'You still want to?' I asked, making sure she knew that if she didn't want to, I would be okay with that.

'Yeah,' she said. 'I still want to, but just yours, okay? I'm so tired, I don't think I'll make it through the whole movie.'

'Are you sure you want to watch it?' I was starting to feel that my choice of movie wasn't going to be appropriate, considering the events of the evening, and Rory's current mood. She needed a light fluffy movie to take her mind of things, not a bittersweet, complicated drama.

'Why?' Rory pulled out of my embrace to look into my eyes and study my face. 'Is the movie bad?'

'No, not bad,' I answered, 'just… it could be construed as a little… depressing…'

She smiled at me. 'That actually suits my mood pretty well, you know,' she observed, and I couldn't help but agree. 'I don't mind watching a depressing movie. Just don't feel insulted if I fall asleep.'

'I won't,' I assured her.

'What movie is it?'

I grabbed my handbag, opening it up and handed over the DVD case. She read the case while I spoke, 'It's Lost and Delirious. It's one of my favourite recent movies.'

'Lesbians?' she asked me, arching her eyebrows.

'It's more about love,' I argued, 'but yes, it's lesbians.'

Her face took on a wry expression. 'How fitting,' she mumbled, and at the time I mistook her statement, thinking she referred to me and my confession.

'I guess it is. So, you still want to watch it?'

'Yeah, I do,' she said, more enthusiastic than I expected her to be.

'Okay.' I took the movie from her and placed the DVD into the player, grabbed the remote, and went to join her on the bed. She scooted up for me and tucked her legs under the covers. I sat with my back to the headboard, on top of the covers. 'Ready?'

'Ready,' she confirmed.

I hit play and settled back to watch the film.

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but around about halfway though the movie, I noticed that Rory had snuggled up to my side. She had her head resting on my lap. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and became increasingly aware of my hands. I didn't know what to do with them. I wanted to rum my fingers through her hair, but I figured that might be inappropriate, and certainly not something she would appreciate, or welcome. I grabbed fistfuls of the blankets to stop myself from giving into my impulses, but as the movie progressed, it became ever more difficult.

When the movie took a turn for the worst, I heard Rory take a deep, sniffling breath. Was she crying? Then I felt the wetness of her tears soaking through my pants, and it was confirmed. She was.

I couldn't help myself now. I raised my right hand and placed it on her head. She stiffened, but didn't say a word. I started to slide my fingers through her hair soothingly and she quickly relaxed. My heart was pumping so fast I thought it might explode. She didn't say a word, or show any sign of being uncomfortable. In fact, it was the exact opposite. She seemed to relax even more as I continued my soft ministrations.

At the time I was sure it was nothing. It didn't mean a thing. The movie had upset her, and she just thought I was trying to comfort her. She was only welcoming my attention because she was tired and saddened. That was what I told myself, anyway. I think maybe I couldn't allow myself to believe differently. That would just complicate things.

My fingers continued to part through her hair all the way until the end of the movie. As the credits began to roll, I finally let them still, but I kept my hand on her head. I thought she might have fallen asleep until I heard her speak.

'It's so sad,' she said quietly, and I could hear the tears in her voice, 'but… strangely… beautiful.'

'You think so?'

'In a very morose kind of way, yes,' she admitted. 'To love someone so much… it makes me feel so foolish. To think I ever thought that I loved Dean. What I felt for him… it doesn't even come close to comparing with what Paulie felt for Tori.'

'It does hurt,' I said softly, 'when you love someone so much, and you can't have them. I don't blame Paulie for doing what she did, I can emphasise, but I can't help but pity her at the same time.'

'You love someone?' Rory asked abruptly, sitting up and looking at me.

I lowered my eyes so she couldn't see them. 'Yes,' I confirmed. 'But they will never love me back.'

'Oh.'

I glanced up and saw Rory looking down into her lap.

'I think what made Paulie so crazy was because she had her girl,' I voiced my thoughts on the movie, 'and then she lost her. I can't imagine how I'd react to that. I like to think I could survive it, but… I'm not sure I could.'

'Thank you for showing me this movie Paris,' Rory said earnestly. 'I think I have a lot of thinking to do.'

'You're welcome.'

She snuggled down back into the bed, pulling the covers up and resting her head on her pillow this time. She was looking up at me as she lay down. 'Stay?' she asked me, still looking up at me.

I nodded and slowly slipped under the covers to join her. My every nerve was tingling as she turned to face me and snuggled into my side again. Her head came to find its familiar place in my shoulder. I tightened the blankets with my fists and tried very hard to calm myself as she hummed contentedly and fell into a peaceful slumber.

'Good night Rory,' I whispered into her hair. She made no response as she slept. I swallowed and buried my nose in her hair, smelling her sweet scent. 'Good night my love.'


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** I really didn't want to get into the habit of rehashing old stuff every other chapter, but it seems I have. I just want to give you an idea of what is going through both their heads during the course of the story. I hope you don't mind, but let me know if you do. I try to keep things compact and just get the main points across during the scene you have already seen. Hopefully it doesn't come across as rushed. Thanks for the continued reviews. Hope you enjoy.

**POV:** Rory.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Twelve

After the confrontation with Ryan, Paris suggested that we have a movie night. I agreed that it was a good idea and started to look through my DVD collection. Paris asked if she could choose a movie, and I have to admit, I was curious to see what kind of film she would pick, so I gave in without a fight. We had to rent the film, and also get munchies (of course! What was a movie night without munchies?), so I grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom to get dressed.

I undressed out of my pyjamas and put them in my laundry basket. I was about to start getting dressed when I noticed the bruises on my arms. I stepped in front of the full-length bathroom mirror and looked at my reflection. My bottom lip looked swollen and I had bruises around my upper arms where he had grabbed me, and another on my lower back. I could only imagine that came from being shoved back against his door, into the doorknob. It bothered me that I couldn't even remember the pain.

I took a deep breath and looked away from the disturbing imagine of my damaged, almost naked body. I had to get dressed, so I quickly pulled on the clothing, a knee length skirt and a long sleeved top.

'Ready?' Paris asked me when I emerged from the bathroom.

'Yeah.'

Paris dropped me off outside the convenience store and then drove further down the street to the video store. I watched as the car disappeared and then entered the shop. I took my time finding all of the best goodies, so that I could give Paris a real education in the finer sweets, and then went to wait for her outside.

I was waiting for about ten minutes before she finally pulled up at the side of the street. I got in on the passenger side. I immediately noticed the pleased smile on her face and how cute it made her look. I couldn't help but echo that smile as I asked her, 'what?'

She tried to disguise and dismiss it, but she failed miserably. I continued to pry her for information and she finally relented and admitted that she had called Alison, the girl she had met at the club, and that they had a date set for Friday night. I told her that I thought it was great, but even as I said the words, I knew it wasn't true. I didn't think it was great at all. In fact, I kind of hated that she was going out on a date with another woman.

I had to turn away and look out the window, because I didn't want her to see those thoughts reflected on my face. She started the car in the conversation lag and I began to let myself think about the implications of my reaction to her news. However, before I could really get into it, she distracted me with a question, 'what munchies did you get?'

I let the thoughts slip away without much of a fight. I wasn't overly eager to explore this new side of myself that I was just coming to recognize. I latched onto Paris' query and commenced listing off the various goodies I had picked up for the movie night. I went into great detail, talking about why each sweetie had been chosen, and how best to eat it. I even included some funny little anecdotes about past experiments mom and I had undertaken. Yeah, I was that desperate not to think about it - so desperate that I talked her ear off all the way home.

Speaking of home, you'll never guess who was waiting for us when we arrived.

'Jess?'

'Hey.'

'What are you doing here?'

I probably should have been ranting and raving at him, calling him on how much of an ass he was, ripping him a new one for leaving me without even a written goodbye, let alone a verbal one, but I couldn't. I was just too surprised to see him.

'We need to talk,' he replied, and though I really didn't want to talk to him (I had said all I wanted to say when I called him at my graduation), I knew that I would.

Paris came to the rescue again, stepping between Jess and I, but before she could lay into him, I spoke up, 'no, it's okay Paris. I'll speak to him.'

She started to argue, but I assured her I'd be all right. Jess watched us both with that damn sexy smirk on his face. I bet he was enjoying his apparent power over me, but I was about to show him. Finally, Paris gave in and left us alone, but not before she whispered some parting words to Jess. I couldn't hear what she said, but I heard his reply.

'Wouldn't dream of it.'

Then we were alone.

'So,' I began, 'what are you doing here?' I kept my expression even as I stared at him challengingly.

He didn't reply at first. I watched him quietly. He stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced past me. He sighed and raised a hand to ruffle his hair.

'Well?' I pressed him sharply. 'You don't have anything to say? You just thought you'd drop by, give that knife you stuck in my heart a good twist?'

'That's not it,' he argued. 'Rory… I don't know why I came back… I just knew that I had to…'

'Why?' I demanded to know. 'You left without an explanation. Did you even care how that would make me feel? Why come back now? Why?'

'I'm sorry,' he said, and I hated how sincere he sounded. I wanted to hate him for leaving, but looking into his downcast eyes, I realised that I could never hate him. I loved him too much to ever hate him.

'Are you staying?' I asked him.

'I don't think so,' he replied slowly. He looked up and actually met my eyes this time. I saw his face transform into a frown when he caught sight of my bust lip. 'What happened to your lip?'

'It's nothing,' I lied quickly. I racked my brains for an explanation.

'Don't lie to me Rory,' he said. 'I know you. What happened?'

'A… friend… classmate… she threw a book at me… a textbook… and you know me… I'm terrible at catching… the book hit me in the face…' I fumbled, trying to explain. I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't believe me even as I was railing off my stupid excuse.

'Why are you lying?' Jess demanded to know.

Before I could respond, a momentary reprieve was granted to me in the form of Ali from across the hall.

'Hey Rory, you okay?' My neighbour asked as she peeked her head out of her room.

'I'm fine Ali,' I assured her, hoping she would leave it at that.

She didn't. 'Was that Ryan Whealy you and Paris were arguing with? What happened between you guys?'

'It was nothing,' I repeated for the umpteenth time, giving her a meaningful look.

She paid me no attention as her eyes focused for the first time on Jess. Her eyes lit up, a smile came to her face, and she stepped out into the hallway so he could get a good look at her. She was so transparent. She was also wearing very little at this hour, nothing more than her underwear and a bathrobe, which wasn't even belted up. Did she have no shame?

'Hey,' she said, holding her hand out towards Jess. 'I'm Ali.'

Jess eyed her up reluctantly, and then proceeded to ignore her. I had to stifle a giggle.

'Who's Ryan?' he asked me.

That quickly brought me back down to earth.

'Just some guy,' I replied vaguely.

'He's hardly some guy,' Ali said, trying to inject herself back into the conversation, and no doubt trying to get Jess' attention.

'Do you mind?' I said, harsher than I intended. 'We're trying to have a private conversation here.'

She looked at me coldly. 'In the middle of the hall?'

'Just leave us alone, will you?' I snapped.

'Fine,' she snapped back, and her door slammed behind her.

'What was all that about?' Jess questioned me suspiciously.

'Nothing,' I lied.

'You and Paris got into an argument with a guy about nothing?' he said, quirking an eyebrow at me, and giving me his patented smirk.

'It's… I…' I couldn't find the words to deflect his attention, so I tried to leave. I couldn't let Jess know what had happened to me, and the only way I could ensure he didn't find out was to run away. 'I have to go.' I went to open the door, but his hand shot out and gripped my upper arm firmly. I winced in pain as he irritated the bruises on my arm.

Jess' eyes widened at my reaction, and before I knew it, he had ripped up my sleeve to reveal my bruised arm. His eyes narrowed angrily and he all but snarled, 'what is this?'

'I….I…'

'Did he do this to you? That guy?'

I stepped away from Jess and he let me go. I quickly pulled my sleeve back down to cover my shame and lowered my eyes to the ground at the same time. I couldn't even look at him. 'It was a misunderstanding,' I mumbled.

'A misunderstanding?' His voice was quiet, but full of anger. I kept my eyes down. 'Rory, look at me.' I raised my eyes to meet his. They reflected nothing but tenderness back at me, though his jaw was set tightly, clenched. 'Did he do it? Did he hurt you?'

I nodded, unable to form the words.

'Did he…?'

'No,' I said swiftly, 'no, it didn't… go that far.'

'Dammit Rory, what were you thinking? Going out with someone like that?'

'I didn't think… I wasn't thinking…'

He took a step closer to me. 'Who is he?'

I shook my head. 'No Jess,' I said forcefully, 'no, just leave it. I don't want… you can't do anything. And nothing happened anyway, so…'

'Nothing happened?' he interrupted me. 'Rory, that isn't nothing!' He gestured to my arms.

'I know,' I said, 'but you can't… I don't want you to get in trouble. Please, just leave it alone. Please?'

He sighed and looked away from my face.

'Please Jess?' I begged him.

He looked back into my eyes and stepped closer, before pulling me into his arms. I buried my head into his chest and let him hold me. It felt great, like old times, but at the same time, it was different. We stood embraced like that for I don't know how long.

'I came back…' Jess began, and I allowed him time to think. He kissed the top of my head. 'I'm sorry I left without telling you. I just wanted to say that. And to do it right this time.'

'Do it right?' I murmured into his chest.

'I'm not good enough for you Rory,' he said, and I could tell the words pained him even as he said them, and that he believed them one hundred percent. 'I left because. I didn't graduate. I couldn't take you to prom. I failed you so many times.' He was silent for a long time, and just when I didn't think he would continue, he did. 'I won't bother you again.'

'Jess…'

He let go of me and stepped past me. I stood frozen to the spot. He started to leave. I turned to watch him go. It felt like the thousandth time that I'd seen his back walking away from me. He stopped at the end of the corridor and turned to look back at me.

'Goodbye Rory,' he said.

'Goodbye,' I mouthed, but I didn't actually hear the words. I wasn't sure if I said them or not, but Jess got the message. His lips curved up in a sardonic smile and he turned to go again.

He was around the corner when I suddenly realised that I couldn't let it end like this.

I raced after him. I reached the end of the corridor and spun round the corner. He was entering the stairwell, half way down the new corridor. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me and called out, 'wait!'

I couldn't tell whether he heard me or not, but that didn't matter. I slammed through the stairwell door and started taking steps two at a time. I saw his black-gelled hair not far below me and called out again, 'wait!'

He definitely heard me this time. He stopped and looking up and our eyes met. He kept his face calm as I took the last few steps between us. I stopped, panting for breath before him, hands on my knees. He watched me inquisitively.

'Jess,' I panted, 'I don't… want things… to end… like this.'

'What?'

'I'm not saying I want to get back together,' I said slowly, my breath returning to normal somewhat. 'I think… I think we're just not suited for each other, right now, and I'm… I think I'm going through some… changes.'

'Changes?'

'I can't explain it,' I said, dismissing it, 'but the point is. I don't think we're right for each other, but I… I still care about you. I don't want us to end like this. You're Luke's nephew, we're bound to see each other again, and when we do, I want us to be… good. I want us to be friends.'

He absorbed my words thoughtfully. 'You really think we'll see each other again?'

'I want us to,' I replied honestly. 'I want to keep in touch. Phone each other. Write letters. Whatever. I… you're one of the best friends I've ever had.'

He again took his time, letting my words sink in. 'Best friends huh.'

'…Yeah,' I said, meeting his eyes regretfully, knowing that wasn't what he wanted, but hoping he would accept it.

He nodded. 'Goodbye Rory,' he repeated, walking backwards down the stairs, our eyes locked together. His face didn't betray a thing.

I stared after him, trying to read him, but as always, he was a closed book to me. I looked down at my shoes regretfully, feeling as if I was losing a limb, but when I glanced up again, he was at the bottom of the stairs, watching me. Hoped flared briefly, but if his look meant something, I didn't know what. He backed out of the door and was gone.

Jess and I, as a couple, we were finally over.

I took a deep, deep breath, and then went back to my dorm room – and Paris.

She questioned me about Jess and I gave her the gist of our conversation. I could tell she didn't know what to say, so I gave her an out and asked her if we could just watch the movie. She asked me if I really wanted to and I confirmed that I did, but only her movie. I was feeling mentally exhausted after talking with Jess, but I didn't want to let Paris down.

'Are you sure you want to watch it?' she again asked me.

'Why? Is the movie bad?'

'No, not bad, just… it could be construed as a little… depressing…'

I laughed in my head at the irony of it all. Normally, I might have cared, because I certainly didn't want to add to my depression, but not tonight. Tonight I would actually welcome it. Maybe it would even make me feel better and help me take my mind of my own woes for a while.

I relayed this simply to Paris and told her I didn't mind.

'What's the movie called?'

She reached into her bag and handed me the movie. I read the case, getting the basic plot from the summary on the back. As I read, I felt the corners of my mouth turned up in a smile - of course.

'Lesbians?' I asked, after Paris finished speaking, giving her a satirical look.

'Its more about love,' Paris assured me, but went on to clarify, 'but yes, it's lesbians.'

'How fitting,' I mumbled to myself.

'Yeah, I guess it is. So, you still want to watch it?'

I was surprised when she replied to my comment. I really hadn't intended her to hear it. I thought for a moment, considering, and then nodded. 'Yeah, I do.' I was actually looking forward to the movie now. It might just be an educational experience.

We sat together on the bed to watch the movie. As the scenes played out, I was extremely aware of Paris sitting next to me. We sat so close together it was impossible for our bodies not to touch. Every time they did, my entire body would respond, buzzing for more. I found myself making those movements consciously, so as to incite that contact. I wanted nothing more than to snuggle into her side and lay my head down in her lap.

I guess it's useless for me to deny it anymore. I'm sure you've already realised anyway. So what's the point? The signs are all over the place. I've been regularly dreaming about Paris. I went to a gay club, kissed another girl and enjoyed it. Earlier that day I was actually jealous of another woman, because she would be going on a date with Paris.

At the time, I didn't know what it all meant, but I couldn't deny that I was showing a certain amount of lesbian tendencies lately. I definitely had a crush on Paris, judging by my body's reaction to her, and my continued dreams. I wanted her. I could feel myself blushing even as I had the thought, but it was more than sexual lusting. Even just the touch of her flesh on mine gave me euphoric feelings. I wanted the simple act of being in her arms just as much as I wanted to feel her lips on mine (and other places, as well).

I glanced over at Paris. She was engrossed in the movie, her gorgeous deep brown eyes focused on the screen. Before I could really think about my actions, I was shuffling closer to her, and then laying my head down in her lap. I didn't think about how she might feel about this. I didn't think (or care) if my action gave away my feelings. I just did it.

Her thighs welcomed me comfortingly. I could smell her and feel her and it was one of the most wonderful moments I have ever experienced. I'd cuddled with Dean and Jess before, but those experiences paled in comparison to this.

As I realised this, I felt my heart skip a beat. What did it all mean? How could I be feeling this way all of a sudden? Didn't I love Dean and Jess? At the time I was with them, I certainly thought I did. Was I just lying to myself? But I'd known Paris for three years and I'd never felt anything more than friendly feelings for her. Why was that changing now? My mind couldn't find the answers.

I felt my body react when the love scene began to unfold on the screen. I could feel my panties dampening, and that scared me. It's one thing to recognise that you're going through a few changes; it's another to accept them. I was on my way towards that, but I wasn't there quite yet.

Then things turned ugly. I watched, suddenly gripped by the movie, as the relationship between the two lesbian characters began to fall apart. I could see the heartbreak that both characters felt and it brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't help myself when I started to cry. I tried to hide it from Paris, but I probably failed. I'm sure she was able to feel the damp patch my tears had created on her pants.

When Paris brought her hand down to rest on my head, I stiffened in surprise. She began to softly comb her fingers through my hair. I quickly relaxed into her attention. I didn't know why she was doing it, but I wasn't going to object. It felt really good. She didn't stop stroking her fingers through my hair until the end of the movie.

I didn't have time to think anymore because I was too busy watching the beautiful, sad story unfold. I hoped that things would turn out well, but in my heart I knew they wouldn't. So when the credits began to roll, I wasn't surprised.

I felt Paris' hand stop, her fingers still buried in my hair. She kept them there, but didn't say a word. I was waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, I said, 'it's so sad, but… strangely…beautiful.'

'You think so?'

I did. I was sure now that I had never loved Dean. When we broke up, sure, I was sad, but that was all. I felt sad because I knew I had hurt him, not because I had loved him. With Jess… it was different. I was forlorn when he left, but not surprised. I think I did love him, but… I couldn't wrap my head around it. To be honest, I didn't know how Jess fit in.

I told Paris this, and she responded with an extremely shocking revelation.

'You love someone?' I asked her, unable to hide my surprise.

'Yes. But they will never love me back.'

I didn't know how to respond to that. Paris loved someone, yet she couldn't have them. I couldn't even imagine how heartbreaking that must be.

We talked for a little while longer, but my head wasn't in it. I had a lot of thinking to do. When I started to get comfy in my bed, I realised that soon Paris would be gone, and I'd be alone. I knew I didn't want this, so I asked her to stay. Again, I didn't care if I gave myself away; I just needed her to be near me.

Maybe she thought I was still upset about Ryan, but for whatever reason she agreed and snuggled down into bed with me. I turned on my side to embrace her. I couldn't help the contented hum I let out. It just felt so… right… to be in her arms. I closed my eyes and let myself drift off.

For the first time, I hoped I would dream of her.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** Argh! I've been so busy. I'm sorry for the wait on this one. Not only have I been busy, but I'm also without a concrete plan now, so it's harder for me to write because I don't really know where I'm going quite yet. I have a few ideas though so don't worry. Sorry for the almost complete lack of Rory in this chapter, but next chapter will be all Rory, and also – Stars Hollow. Yipee! Thanks for the support guys. Hope you like.

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Thirteen

I had a date on Friday night.

The thought had me on the verge of a nervous breakdown all week. I found myself daydreaming during important lectures. I spent most of my time in the dorm going through my wardrobe, trying to pick out the perfect outfit. I made several different selections during the course of the week, only to discard them the next day.

Rory observed all of this with a tiny smile, but she kept silent. In fact, she was strangely quiet for most of the week, even when I tried to talk with her. Early on, I made several attempts to converse, but she deflected them with simple (normally one word) answers. She wasn't unfriendly towards me, as she often graced me with a smile – she was just quiet. There really was no other way to describe her behaviour.

I suspected she was just feeling the after affects of her hectic weekend, so I quickly gave up. She would talk to me when she wanted to. I decided to be patient.

Besides, I had other things to think about.

For example: what the hell was I going to wear for my date with Alison?

Alison called on Wednesday.

'Hey,' she said over the phone.

'Hi,' I replied happily.

'How you doing?'

'I'm good,' I replied, trying to be casual.

'Awesome,' she said, 'me too. I'm really looking forward to seeing you again.'

'You are?' I couldn't help the pleased smile that came to my face – not that I tried.

'Oh yeah,' she said with a laugh. 'So about the date: I figure you should just come over to my place, I'll cook dinner, and then we can watch a movie or something? I know its kinda cliché, but its a personal setting, which I sense you might appreciate…'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean you've admitted yourself that you're new to the whole dating thing. I guess I thought you might not… you know… want people to know exactly what our relationship is just yet. Something I think a candlelit dinner in a romantic restaurant might give away. Its up to you.'

I had to think about it. She had a point. As much as I had accepted that part of myself, I wasn't really ready to flaunt it in a general situation. 'That would be good,' I eventually replied.

'Great,' she said. 'I'll start planning then. Why don't you come on over to my place around six on Friday?' She proceeded to give me her address and apartment number.

'Okay,' I said, jotting the address down on a nearby piece of paper.

'See you on Friday then.'

'Bye.'

Now that I knew what to expect for our date, I had a better idea of what kind of attire would be suitable. It couldn't be something too fancy, but at the same time, I didn't want to wear something too casual either. It proved to be a hassle trying to find an outfit that balanced the two, but I eventually managed.

I settled on a nice cream coloured blouse and a pair of brown stretch corduroy pants.

Friday arrived after what felt like a decade. Classes that day seemed to stretch on forever, but finally they passed, and I was free to return to my dorm and get ready for the date.

Rory was there when I got back, packing a few things for her weekend in Stars Hollow with her mother.

'Hi,' she said when I entered.

'Hey,' I returned her greeting, quickly crossing to my side of the room and opening my wardrobe. I shuffled out of my shoes as I walked and was removing my jacket when Rory spoke to me for the first time all week (besides hellos and goodbyes).

'Getting ready for your date?' I could tell she was trying to be casual. I turned to look at her. I had detected a strange hint of something in her voice, but I couldn't quite place it. The fact was she was trying to be casual. Keyword: trying.

'Yeah,' I said, searching for something to say to prolong the dialogue between us. This was the first time she had initiated conversation and I didn't want to let it go to waste. I settled on. 'Did I tell you what we're doing?'

'No.'

She was back to being abrupt again. I wasn't going to let her get away with it this time. She had initiated this, so she clearly wanted to talk to me about something. Maybe she had all week. Maybe she just didn't know how to say it. Whatever that it may be.

'She's cooking me dinner and then we're going to watch a movie.'

'Sounds fun,' she said flatly, turning her back to me and resuming her packing.

'Is something wrong Rory?' Despite my pledge to let her open up to me in her own time, I couldn't help myself.

'No.'

'You've been quiet all week. Are you sure?'

'Yup.'

I studied her back for a while, watching her work slowly through her clothing, deciding what she was going to pack and what she would leave behind. She seemed to take her time on each piece, as if she was just trying to keep herself busy. I also noticed she seemed to be packing a hell of a lot more than she really needed for one weekend. She didn't say another word to me. Obviously, she wasn't ready to open up yet.

'Okay,' I said, 'but if you change your mind, I'm always here for you.'

'Thanks.'

There wasn't much to say after that. I grabbed my date outfit from my wardrobe and then went into the bathroom to change. She was gone when I came back out. I sighed to myself, wondering what was bothering Rory so much. I could have spent hours wondering, but I didn't have that long, so I gave it up for now and went back to getting ready.

Ten minutes later and I was ready to leave for Alison's.

I've often spoken in front of crowds, sometimes small, sometimes reasonably large, but I've never, ever been more nervous than I was as I stood outside Alison's apartment and waited for her to answer the door. Time slowed so that a fraction of a second felt like hours, until eventually, I heard a noise on the other side of the door, and then it opened.

There she stood – my date, the woman who had cooked dinner for me, who I would be spending the evening with.

'Hey,' she said, inviting me in with a smile.

As I returned the greeting and entered the apartment, my eyes scanned the room, making note of the cosy table, set with a lovely tablecloth, two place settings close together, and a candle burning between them. The room was lit dimly. It was just so romantic it made my heart flutter. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this.

I felt giddy as my eyes roamed the room and then came to settle on Alison. She was still smiling, leading me over towards the set table. The candlelight made her beautiful auburn hair golden. She was wearing a classy black knee length dress with a plunging neckline. I tried hard not to stare.

'Would you like to sit?' she asked with a gesture.

'S-sure,' I stuttered, and our hands touched as we both tried to pull out the same chair. She laughed as I blushed and then finished the job. I sat down quickly.

'Wine?' she offered.

'Okay.'

I let out a relieved breath when she left me alone to go and fetch the wine. I folded my hands in my lap and took several more deep breaths, trying to relax.

'Come on Paris,' I whispered to myself, 'get your act together. Calm down. No pressure. It's just a date.'

Alison returned with two half full wine glasses. She handed one to me.

'Thanks,' I said.

'Toast?' she proposed.

'Erm, okay.'

'To tonight?'

I swallowed. 'To tonight.' We clinked glasses and sipped at the same time.

'Are you alright?' she asked me, finally taking the seat across from me.

'Yeah,' I said, with a shaky laugh, 'I'm fine.'

'Nervous?'

A pause. 'A little,' I finally admitted.

'Its understandable,' she replied, 'but you don't have to be.'

'I know,' I said. 'I'm just being irrational, but that's me. It'll pass.'

'I'm sure it will.'

'I'm also a little worried about Rory.'

'Rory?'

'My friend,' I reminded her.

'Oh,' she said, 'right. So, dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. We're having chicken. I hope that's okay.'

'Of course.' I took another sip of the wine. 'It's just… she's been off lately and she won't let me help. She just won't talk to me.'

'Your friend?'

'Yeah, and she's been really great to me. I'd just like to be able to return the favour. I hope she's going to be okay.'

'Mm. I'll go check on the chicken.'

'Oh, okay,' I said, watching her go.

I sat, waiting for her to come back, but also thinking about Rory. It didn't occur to me at the time that it probably wasn't the best thing to be doing (or talking about) during my date with Alison.

She was in the kitchen for a long time, but at the time I barely noticed. My mind was too preoccupied thinking about Rory and trying to figure out (besides the obvious) what might be wrong with her. So I was surprised when Alison set a plate down in front of me.

'Sorry,' she apologised.

'That's okay,' I assured her, 'I was just thinking, not paying attention.'

'Thinking about what?' she asked, placing her own plate down and sitting again.

'Just Rory,' I replied, as if it was no big deal. 'She's been through a lot lately, but somehow I don't think that's what's bothering her. But then again, if it isn't that, I can't figure out what else it could be. Maybe the Jess thing…'

Alison didn't reply. She just proceeded to eat her dinner as I blabbed on about Rory and Jess. I occasionally took a bite myself, but more often than not I was too busy talking.

'They have this kind of destructive relationship. They never seem to be on the same page. The amount of times I've seen her in a bad mood over something he did. They just never seemed to be able to talk about it. I think that was their main problem. They never communicated.'

I stopped to take a bite.

'I wish I knew what they talked about on Monday. She said they were over. Maybe she isn't as okay with that as she appeared.'

'Paris?' Alison finally interrupted me. I stopped talking to listen. 'Can we talk about something else?'

'Yeah, sure,' I said, blushing as I realised how much I'd been babbling. 'What do you want to talk about?'

Alison opened her mouth, but no words where forthcoming, so she closed it again abruptly. I stared at her as she looked down at her plate. As I watched her take tiny bites of her food and stare at her plate, I began to realise the error I'd made.

I'd been talking about nothing but Rory for the past twenty odd minutes. Alison hasn't said a word. She wasn't having a good time. I cursed my own stupidity while at the same time I desperately hoped I hadn't ruined the entire evening.

'Alison?' I asked timidly.

She looked up at me.

'I'm sorry,' I said sincerely. 'I'm really sorry. It's just… I'm not really good at this. I've never really been on a serious date before, with someone I was actually interested in. I hope I haven't ruined it…'

She smiled a little and shook her head. 'It's okay,' she admitted, with a sigh, 'you haven't ruined anything.'

I took another bite of chicken. 'This is really good,' I complimented her, after chewing and swallowing.

'Thanks.'

'Really, I'm sorry,' I assured her.

'I know,' she replied. 'How are your studies going?'

'Great,' I said eagerly, seizing onto the topic like it was a life raft and I was out at sea, adrift. 'It's going great. Really… great.'

'What are you studying?'

'Oh.'

And so I told her.

Eventually, the evening seemed to realign itself and my earlier gaffe was forgotten. After we finished dinner we both sat on her comfy two-seater, settling back to watch her movie of choice. I'd seen it before, but I didn't mind watching it again with her.

In the end, we barely watched the movie. Before it could actually get going, she tipped her head towards mine and captured my lips. I didn't resist. She kissed me slowly at first, but with increasing passion, so that ultimately I was lying horizontal on her couch, Alison perched above me, giving me my first real kiss.

I'd kissed both Tristan and Jamie before, of course, but it was nothing like this. Even when Jamie and I had sex, it was nothing like this. There was no passion. My body just would not get into it.

Now, however, trapped warmly underneath Alison, my body welcomed her. My skin tingled as she ran her hands up under my top. My lips opened willingly for her tongue. My face lit up with passion as she continued to kiss and touch me in so many new and exciting ways.

I can't remember how long we kissed for. All I do remember is that by the time we stopped, the movie was past the halfway point, and we no longer cared about it. Alison lingered above me, her warm breath blowing into my face. Air felt like a commodity all of a sudden and I couldn't get enough of it. When I looked up into her eyes, I knew she cared about me. I could see her feelings for me reflected in those ocean-like orbs: lust, fascination, but most importantly, absolute affection.

I wished I felt the same. Don't get me wrong; I liked her, a lot. She was everything I should want. She was kind, understanding, interesting, and absolutely gorgeous.

But she wasn't Rory.

I felt horrible for thinking it, but I couldn't deny it.

That didn't stop me from trying though. Rory was never going to happen. I would have to accept that. I would accept it. I just needed time. That's what I told myself anyway.

Alison was wonderful, and I didn't deserve her, but I would do my best to be worthy of her affection.

'Sorry,' she whispered breathlessly.

'What for?' I asked, echoing her softly.

'Jumping you like that,' she said. 'I didn't intend to. I'm not normally like that. I like to wait. Not rush. But something about you… I couldn't help myself. I've wanted to kiss you like that since the moment I first saw you at the bar. You're so beautiful Paris… so shy and cute and magnificent.'

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just smiled. She kissed me again.

'Maybe I'm completely out of line for asking this,' she said, after pulling away, 'but… do you want to stay? No pressure. I'm not asking you for anything more than you're willing to give, but I'd love for you to stay tonight.'

'Stay the night?' I blurted out, blinking my eyes. I certainly hadn't expected that.

She apparently saw panic there (and maybe there was), because she quickly said, 'Just to cuddle. I promise.'

'I…'

'You don't have to,' she interrupted me. 'Not if you don't want to.'

'I…' I thought about being alone in the dorm tonight. Rory wouldn't be back. She would be gone the entire weekend. What did I really have to return for? 'Okay,' I agreed. 'I'll stay.'

Her face lit up with happiness and she kissed me again, longer this time, until we were both breathless once more. After getting her breath back, she only had one word for me before we resumed.

'Awesome.'


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** I think I know where I'm going now. On a bad note, I think my computer has a virus on it, or something like a virus. I'm trying to sort it out, but I don't know how successful I'll be. Hopefully I'll be back soon, but if not, you know why. Sorry guys. Hope you enjoy.

**POV:** Rory.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Fourteen

Now that I had begun to accept my feelings for Paris, living with her was becoming difficult. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy spending time with her. A part of me loved every moment I was within her presence.

It was simply because I didn't know how to _act_ around her. I didn't want to give away my sudden interest in her, and so I chose not to say anything to her. At least, I didn't say much. I couldn't, and refused, to eject her from life. I didn't want to be distant with her – that was never my intent – but by keeping my responses short and to the point I began to fear that I was doing just that.

I found myself conflicted, and no matter how much I tried to come up with a solution, I couldn't find balance.

I don't know why, but Paris didn't challenge me on my silences. For whatever reason, she was being patient with me. I just hoped I could find a way to be myself again, without revealing my newfound interest, before that began to change.

Then there was Alison – Paris' potential girlfriend.

The thought of them together made me seethe with jealousy. Every time Paris spoke about her, I felt my heart break a little. I felt an unreasonable hatred for the red haired vixen. I knew it was unfair. I knew I was being a bitch. But though I could recognise the unfairness of my feelings, I couldn't, however, change them.

Not only were my mind and heart beset by these thoughts and feelings, my body was also affected. The sight of Paris was enough to cause a flame of desire inside me. I lusted for her all the time. I felt like a lecherous pervert when I could hardly tear my eyes from her as she moved around the room. I watched sneakily, hoping her shirt would ride up to reveal even a tiny amount of smooth stomach.

During the course of the week she tried on many outfits for her date. I'm ashamed to admit that I took advantage of this opportunity to ogle her. She'd try on jeans and I'd stare unabashedly at her backside. She'd try on skirts and I'd eyeball her amazing legs, with her perfect calves and sexy knees. Yeah, I thought her knees were sexy, so what?

I knew that Paris would be going on a date with Alison on Friday, so when that day arrived, I rushed through my work, intending to be gone before she got back from her own classes. I didn't trust myself not to say something stupid. I was growing more and more agitated as the week drove on, and I could easily see myself confessing everything to Paris in a vain attempt to stop her from going on her date. I couldn't let that happen, but as all best laid plans go, mine failed miserably.

Despite my best efforts, I was still in our shared dorm when Paris returned.

After exchanging greetings, I tried to keep my mouth shut, and focus on the task at hand – packing for my weekend in Stars Hollow. Paris moved over to her side of the room. She didn't even try to initiate conversation.

I hated that she was so caught up in her own little world, that she was so focused on her date with Alison, that she didn't even try to talk to me. It was pathetic. I should have been happy for her, but I wasn't. All I could think was that she cared more about Alison than me, even though a part of me knew it wasn't true.

She just cared about Alison in a more intimate manner. And she was excited. She wasn't thinking about my feelings at all. She had no idea how her behaviour was affecting me, or how I felt, and why would she? I had no right to be upset.

I decided to try and talk to her.

Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. It was all too complicated. A part of me wanted to yell at her and hate her, while another part wanted to confess it all, and yet another part wanted to be supportive and understanding.

'Getting ready for your date?' I said, trying to be casual.

Even as I said the words, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. Was I stupid? Her date with Alison was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I started to pack frantically, trying to take my mind of everything - focus on a mediocre task, shut down my brain, and not dwell.

'Yeah,' Paris replied, 'did I tell you what we're doing?'

I didn't care! 'No.'

She proceeded to tell me. I picked up a shirt and studied it intently, weighing its good and bad qualities. I would do anything to distract myself from the pain I felt as she told me all about her wonderful date plans. I've never been jealous before. Ever. I really didn't like it.

'Sounds fun,' was my bland response.

'Is something wrong Rory?'

'No.'

'You've been quiet all week. Are you sure?'

'Yup.'

Short and simple - no thought required. Next shirt. Keep them coming.

'Okay,' she said, but I detected a note of pleading in her voice when she continued with, 'but if you change your mind, I'm always here for you.'

'Thanks.'

I turned my head away when she passed to go change in the bathroom. I zipped up my bag. Wiped at my eyes. I couldn't take it. I grabbed the bag and fled the room.

Why did I have to feel this way?

I stared at the road ahead, driving to Stars Hollow, but my mind kept coming back to that question.

When had things become so complicated? It was bad enough that I was falling for Paris (Paris!), but did it have to be even more complicated than that? Did the object of my affections really have to be dating another woman? What was I supposed to do?

I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. I was freaked out by my sudden feelings for Paris. I didn't know how to feel about it. I needed to talk to someone, but I couldn't talk to anyone. The idea of telling mom, or Lane, or even some random stranger, that I was infatuated with another woman was unthinkable. I couldn't even get my head around it. How was anyone else supposed to?

And it wasn't just Paris. I remembered kissing Dinah at the club and how good it felt. I was looking at things differently. I recognised now the real reason I had accepted the date with Ryan. Something was changing inside me and I was just trying to deny it. I was trying to be the old Rory. Or maybe I had always been trying.

You see what I mean? My mind kept going round in circles, never ending, unable to come up with a logical answer - probably because a logical answer didn't exist. I certainly never found one.

The best I could come up with was that affairs of the heart are never logical. They're never simple, always complex, and sometimes even contradictory. At the time, I couldn't see that, and so I was consumed by uncertainty.

That was my thought process as I travelled to Stars Hollow. When I arrived, I pulled up behind the Jeep and shut off the engine, then sat silently in the car for who knows how long. My mind was still embroiled in my internal battle, so much so that my conscious mind didn't even realise I had arrived at my destination.

The sound of Babette knocking on my window broke me from my trance. I turned to stare at her as she shouted through the glass.

'Rory! Honey! How're ya?'

I wound the window down. 'Babette?' That was the best my still befuddled mind could come up with.

'You alright cutie? You've been sitting there in your car for almost half an hour now. I told Morey something must be wrong, but he said to leave you alone. He's a hunk, but he doesn't understand woman's intuition. So tell me doll, you okay?'

'Yeah, Babette, I'm fine,' I assured her. 'Just thinking. Nothing important. Yale stuff.'

'You sure?'

'Positive. Hey, do you know where my mom is? Lights aren't on,' I said, gesturing to the house.

'I think she's at Luke's,' she told me.

'Thanks,' I said, getting out of the car. I grabbed my bag. 'I'll just go put this inside. Catch you later.'

'Oh, sure, bye sweetie.'

Once that was done, and my bag was safely dumped on my bed, I made my way slowly towards Luke's diner. My mind was still a jumbled mess, and the slow walk did nothing to change that.

I found mom sitting at the counter, engaged in a quiet conversation with the often grumpy, but still lovely Luke Danes. That in itself should have been a big indication that something was wrong. After all, since when was my mom ever quiet about anything? But at the time, I was too wrapped up in my own stuff to notice.

I approached them and took a seat next mom. She hadn't noticed me yet. Neither had Luke, who was furiously scrubbing a clean glass with a dirty cloth.

'… you going to do?' Mom was saying.

'I don't know,' Luke said, in that quiet, but nevertheless angry way he has. 'What can I do? What am I supposed to do? I'm not cut out for this kinda pressure, Lorelai. I swear - hey Rory,' (mom did a double take) ' - he's gonna give me a heart attack one day. You think he does it on purpose? Don't answer that!'

'Jeez Rory, you're like a ninja now. How long have you been sitting there?' Mom asked me.

'Not long,' I replied. 'What's going on?'

'Oh, well, um,' Luke hemmed uncertainly.

Mom gave him an exasperated look, then turned to me, and said softly, 'Jess was arrested.'

'What?' I very nearly shouted.

'Apparently, he assaulted some guy,' mom said, in that same soft tone.

I felt my heart almost stop. It couldn't be? He wouldn't! How could he even know? 'Jess' in jail?'

'No,' Luke said, exchanging a look with mom.

'He's upstairs,' mom filled in.

'I got him out on bail,' Luke finished.

'Oh,' I said, relief flooding through me momentarily, before apprehension took over. 'I need to see him. Excuse me.'

I didn't wait for them to reply. I practically vaulted out of my seat and up the stairs. I stopped outside Luke's apartment, took a deep breath, and then plunged in.

Jess was sitting moodily on the couch with his shoulders slumped. He looked up at me when I burst into the room, his face betraying nothing – no shock, or anxiety, no nothing. He was as cold and calm as ice.

'You got _arrested_?' My voice was unnaturally shrill on that last word.

He shrugged dismissively.

'You don't care?'

'It was worth it,' he said, speaking for the first time, his voice even and sure. He meant it.

'Please…' I looked deep into his eyes, desperately, hoping I was wrong. 'Please tell me it wasn't… it wasn't because of me… please tell me you didn't go and beat up Ryan.'

He stared back at me unflinchingly. I saw the answer in his eyes and the set of his jaw. I was right.

'Are you stupid!' I screamed at him, waving my arms wildly. 'What were you thinking? Seriously Jess. This isn't a joke. You can't just go around beating people up. Especially him! He has connections. This is a big deal. A big problem. You're in serious trouble, do you know that?'

'It was worth it,' he repeated.

I turned away in disgust. 'You're a stupid idiot, Jess.'

'I don't care Rory,' he said, and I heard the leather of his jacket rustle as he stood up, 'what that guy did to you – that wasn't a joke either. I can't go around beating people up? He can't go around trying to rape girls. He's lucky I didn't kill him.'

'Don't say that!' I yelled, turning to face him, tears in my eyes. 'Dammit Jess, I don't care about him. I don't care about what he tried to do. I was moving on, and he didn't really hurt me. It was over. You're what I care about. I don't want you to go to jail, not for me, and you will, he'll see to it.'

Jess sighed and ran a hand through his hair, searching for a reply.

'How did you even find him?'

'You're neighbour across the hall,' he said. 'I went back later to talk to her, get more details, so I could find him.'

'You planned it.'

'So?'

'I asked you to leave it alone,' I reminded him.

'I know,' he replied, 'but I couldn't. He won't bother you again. He got the message.'

'Jess,' I said, miserably.

'Relax Rory.' He pulled me into his arms. 'I'll be fine. I'm not going to jail.'

'Don't be so sure of that,' I contradicted him. I hadn't known Ryan for that long a time, but I didn't have too. I knew the kind of guy he was.

'He's saying I broke his nose and arm, but its bull. Believe me, I wanted to, but I'm not that stupid. I just roughed him up a little, gave him a few bruises to remember you by. I'll get a fine and a warning or something, but that's nothing. I'll be fine.'

'I hope you're right,' I mumbled into his jacket.

'Trust me,' he said, pulling me down onto the couch. I cuddled into his side and he held me. I hoped it wouldn't be the last time.

We sat like that for a while. He didn't say anything, which, granted, isn't that surprising. We both enjoyed the quiet peacefulness of the moment. It was nice to know we could still do this. After our last parting, I didn't know if things would work out, but now I did.

A thought struck me suddenly, and I had to ask, 'Jess?'

'Hm?'

'You beat him up?'

'I think we've covered that.'

I smiled a little. 'I mean… how? He's a big guy.'

He scoffed. 'It's all show. He's a wimp and a coward. Dick didn't even try to fight back.'

'Oh.'

I didn't know what to say after that. Luckily, Jess and I had always been able to enjoy nice comfortable silences. We never felt the need to fill the air with pointless chatter, so we just sat and cuddled quietly.

'How are you?' Jess broke the silence.

'Fine,' I replied dismissively, 'you?' Not for a moment did I think he would let me off that easily, but I had to try.

'Not bad, considering, but I don't believe you.'

'Why? I'm as fine as can be.'

'You can't fool me Rory,' he pointed out.

'What? You have some kind of Rory radar?'

'Rory radar?' Jess asked with a laugh.

'You know what I mean,' I said snippily.

'I just know when you aren't being honest with me. When you're lying, you become very abrupt.'

I sat up, moved out of his arms, and looked at him stoically. 'I do, huh.'

He copied me and sat up, returning my look. 'Yeah, you do.'

'Okay then.' I refused to say another word.

We stared at each other for several minutes, neither giving way, until finally I couldn't take it anymore. My face cracked into a smile. He smirked. I felt like slapping him, but I couldn't help laughing at the same time.

'Going to tell me what's going on?' he asked doggedly.

A sigh. 'No.'

'But there is something.'

I stood up and moved away, unconsciously distancing myself from him. 'Jess, please,' I begged him, 'let it go.'

'You can't tell me?'

'I can't tell anyone.'

He stood up and moved to corner me. 'So whatever it is, you're just going to ignore it, hope it goes away?'

I frowned at him. 'I guess…'

'I seem to remember that was the general rule for our relationship,' he pointed out, 'and if I remember rightly, that didn't turn out too well.'

'I wish I could tell you,' I said, softly, pathetically, almost whimpering in defeat.

He held my gaze. 'You can.'

Now I did whimper. It would be so easy, almost, to tell him. He was making it easy… it was Jess… if I could tell anyone… could I? Maybe I could tell him half the truth. He didn't need to know it was Paris. Or even another woman.

But then, this was Jess. Could I really ask him for advice on my love life? Was that completely heartless? We were over, as a couple, that was plainly obvious now, but I still cared for him. I didn't want to hurt him. Then again, he had asked for this. He wanted me to tell him.

I didn't know what to do. I recognised that was becoming a staple of my life, and the only thing I could think of, my only real option here, was to take the plunge.

So I did.

I looked down at my feet. 'There's someone new in my life,' I said, glancing up between my eyelashes to consider his reaction. He didn't flinch or show any outward sign of discomfort, so I pressed on. 'I've known them for a while, but I've never thought about them this way before. It's all very new.

'But the thing is, they're seeing someone else, and I don't know what to do… I'm jealous, I recognise the symptoms, and I hate feeling this way. I want h… them to be happy, I really do, but at the same time, I want them for myself. It's all so confusing. And it's not like they've shown any interest in me. Frankly, I don't know how they feel about me. We're friends, but… so I could make my feelings known, only to ruin our friendship for nothing. The whole situation is consuming my life. It's all I can think about. I don't know what to do.'

He stared at me for several long minutes (or at least it felt like minutes), then quirked a smile, which turned into an outright grin. Then he laughed, but it wasn't a ha-ha funny laugh, it was a my-god-I-can't-believe-my-ears laugh – an ironic laugh.

'What?' I demanded to know what was so funny.

He opened his mouth, shut it again, took his jacket off and threw it on the sofa. He pointed at me, still with that damned quirky smile – I couldn't place it.

'You're not serious? _Paris_?'

Okay, I'll admit it, at that moment; my heart was suddenly in my throat. How did he know?

'How…? How…?' I stumbled clumsily. I knew it was pointless trying to deny it, my bright red face was a dead give away.

'Come on Rory,' he said, 'I'm not stupid. I never would have guessed _this_… but I'm not stupid.'

Damn him and his stupid perceptiveness.

'I… I…' I didn't know what to say. My face felt like it might erupt like a volcano. I turned away to hide from him, extremely embarrassed. He knew! He knew I was having naughty thoughts about another woman. About Paris!

'Really Rory? _Paris_?'

'Stop saying it like that,' I wailed. 'You make it sound so bad. And it's not! I can't help the way I feel… _god_, I _knew _I shouldn't have said anything!'

'I'm not judging,' he argued. 'Believe me, I'm not. It's not about _that_. Damn. It's just… _Paris_.'

'You don't know her,' I countered.

'Actually, it's not about me,' he said. 'In fact, I really don't mind her. I just got the impression _you_ didn't like her all that much.'

'Maybe at one point I didn't,' I confessed, 'but things change. People change.'

'No kidding.'

'Jess!'

'Sorry.' I felt his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him. I looked into his eyes.

Before he could say anything, I spoke up, 'you really don't care? It doesn't bother you? You're not… I don't know… grossed out?'

'I'm not.'

'Thank you,' I said, sniffing back more tears. I let out a breath. 'It feels good to get it off my chest.' I had a new respect for Paris. How did she hold that inside for nearly three years? 'But I still don't know what to do… what would you do?'

'You know what I would do,' he said, giving me a pointed look. 'What I _did_.'

'Oh. Right. Of course.'

'If you really care about her,' he said, 'then you'll fight for her.'

'But what if she doesn't return my feelings? Did I just say that out loud?'

He gave me another of his crooked smiles. 'You did. And trust me, you'll never know unless you try. Can you live knowing you let the opportunity slip by?'

'But what if…'

'_Rory._' I stopped talking. He looked deep into my eyes, trying to tell me something with his look as well as his words. 'I'm telling you. You asked for my advice. I'm giving it to you. Trust me. Tell her.'

'Tell her?' Was he saying what I thought he was?

'Tell her.'

My heart was going to explode – I was sure. Tell her.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** Okay, so my computer is kind of working again. Phew! That really sucked. This chapter is really short. Sorry about that, but I hope you like it anyway. Thanks for reading and I can't wait to read your reviews. Oh, and if anyone is a fan of Rory/Jess, I wrote a tiny, tiny, tiny little piece about them while my computer was out of commission. Check it out if you like. Thanks. Enjoy.

**POV:** Paris.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Fifteen

I woke up with the scent of bacon and eggs wafting in my noise, teasing me with their delightful flavour and imploring me to rise. Alison was not beside me, but I could hear her voice softly, singing a song I didn't recognise. Judging from the delicious aroma, I assumed she was in the kitchen. I smiled, imagining her dancing around in her pj's, singing and cooking. I let the Alison in my head dance a little longer, then shuffled out of her bed, quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth, and then went to find her.

As my imagination had supposed, I found her doing a little shuffle in a pink silk nightie and bunny slippers. She had yet to notice my presence, and I couldn't help but watch as she danced around, shaking her bottom and bopping her head. The song she was listening to was currently in the middle of a guitar solo, but as soon as it came to an end and the vocals kicked in again, she sung along:

'If I go crazy then will you still call me superman,

If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand,

I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might… kryptonite,'

And here she spun around, spatula in hand, singing the final line loudly,

'_yeah!_'

She froze, her eyes meeting mine, and then, after getting over the shock, she gave me an embarrassed smile.

'How long have you been standing there?' she asked me.

'Not long,' I said to ease her shame. 'Morning.'

'Morning.'

We stood facing each other for a while, Alison still looking a tad embarrassed, while I was just smiling at how cute she was. Finally, she broke the silence, turning back to the stove and saying over her shoulder, 'I'm making bacon and eggs, sound good?'

'Actually, as much as I'd like to – it really smells good – I can't eat bacon,' I said.

'Oh.' She froze again and I could almost hear her mental chastising.

'I'm Jewish,' I answered before she could ask. 'But don't worry about it. I'll just have egg on toast. Where's your bread?'

'Ah-ah!' she spun to face me, waving the spatula. 'Oh no you don't.'

'What?' I asked, confused.

'As far as I'm concerned, we're still on our date, which means I get to make your breakfast.' She gestured back towards the living room and the dinning table. 'Go. Sit. Wait.' I opened my mouth to protest, but she beat me to it. 'Ah!' I tried again. 'Ah!' Finally admitting defeat, I gave her an adoring smile and left her to it.

She didn't keep me waiting long.

'Here you go,' she announced, placing the plate down before me, 'egg on toast. Drink? Orange juice?'

'Thanks, and yes please,' I replied.

After setting her own plate down, she left for the kitchen again, returning a moment later with a pitcher of orange juice and two glasses.

'Let's eat.'

I took a bite and almost died of shear bliss. I'd never tasted eggs as delicious as this. 'Mmm,' I moaned in pleasure, chewing, and then swallowing. 'Wow, these are great. What's your secret?'

'That'd be telling,' she pointed out with a wicked grin.

'Come on, you can't tell me?'

'Nope.' She popped the P.

'Not even a hint?' I pressed.

She just smiled. In time, she said, 'you'll just have to come back if you want more.'

I swallowed, and not just because of the food. I wasn't entirely sure if she was _just_ talking about the food or not. 'I'm sure I will.' I felt my cheek heat up and cursed my propensity to blush.

'Who was that you were listening to?' I asked, trying to change the subject. It's not that I didn't enjoy the flirting. I just felt uncomfortable doing it – like a one armed man trying to tie his shoelaces.

'Three Doors Down. The song was Kryptonite.'

'Not exactly something I'd image you listening to,' I pointed out.

'Why? What kind of music did you think I listened to?'

'I don't know,' I said stupidly. 'Popular music, I guess.' I shrugged, shaking my head. 'I don't know.'

She laughed. 'You're adorable when you're baffled.'

'I'm not baffled,' I argued.

'Yes, you are,' she counter argued.

'I just never put much thought into what kind of music you might listen to.'

'And thus, you're baffled. You don't know what to say. Right?'

I frowned at her sulkily, giving in. 'Fine. I'm baffled. Can we move on?'

'That pout is cute too,' she said, leaning forward over the small table. Her face was only inches away from my own. 'I just want to kiss it.'

I didn't know what to say to that, but thankfully I didn't have to think of anything, because she leaned further over and closed the distance between us. The kiss was soft, closed mouthed, and wonderfully sweet.

'Mmm.' The sound of contentment escaped my lips when she pulled away.

'I like all kinds of music,' she said, abruptly shifting back to the topic at hand.

'All kinds?' Was all my baffled (and I really was this time) mind could come up with.

'I like what I like,' she affirmed.

'That's… that's… good.'

She giggled. 'You okay?'

'Uh-hum.'

'What are your plans for the rest of the day?'

'Nothing concrete,' I replied, finally getting my senses back after being blown away by her kiss. 'Mostly studying. Rory's not back until Sunday.'

'I see,' she said. 'And how attached are you to those plans?'

I smiled a little, seeing where this was going. 'Well, normally I'd say pretty attached,' I saw her face shift into disappointment, so I quickly moved on to reassure her, 'but for you, I can blow it off this once.'

In actuality, I was already caught up on all my college work.

'Are you sure?' she asked. 'I don't want to get in the way of your studying.'

'I'm very sure.'

'Awesome.'

'Yeah,' I said, 'awesome.' She smiled at my use of her word. 'What did you have in mind?'

'I thought we could go out for the day,' she answered. 'You know, go for a drive, and maybe have a picnic somewhere.'

'Sounds good.'

And so our day was planned. We finished breakfast, then wasted no time in getting ready for the day. Alison drove me back to the dorm so that I could change and then we were off, driving away from New Haven and anyone who could recognise us.

The sun was high in the cloudless sky. Alison owned an old soft top, so we enjoyed driving with the wind blowing in our hair. She played music loudly, educating me on her musical interests, which included the band she had been listening to earlier, Three Doors Down, and also a British band named Bush, AC/DC, and The Eagles (she played Hotel California as loud as possible and sung along at the top of her voice).

I was content just watching her.

We drove for hours, before finally parking up and getting out to go for a walk. She held my hand the entire time. We stopped by a lake and fed the ducks. We kissed up against a tree. As the day progressed, we finally sat down to eat, and then kissed some more lying down in the meadow. It was simple, and almost perfect.

But a part of me, and I hated to acknowledge it, a part of me wished that it was Rory - Rory holding my hand, Rory teaching me about music, Rory feeding the ducks with me. Rory kissing me up against the tree, in the meadow, anywhere.

It wasn't fair to Alison, so I tried not to think about Rory.

Alison, at least, didn't seem to sense anything amiss. I was glad for that. I wanted her to have a good time, and she really seemed to. I felt that this could work. We could work. It would just take time for me to get over Rory. Being with Alison, it didn't seem such an impossible task anymore.

The day inevitably came to an end. We drove back to New Haven and Alison parked outside my dorm. She sat watching me as I looking up at the empty dorm waiting for me. I turned to look at her, wanting to kiss her goodnight, but afraid someone might see. She seemed to know what I was thinking. She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. I squeezed back and went to get out of the car.

'Paris,' she called to get my attention. I stopped and looked back into the car. 'I had a really great time today.'

'Me too,' I replied, honestly.

'I'm glad,' she said. I started to go again. 'Paris?'

'Yeah?'

'It doesn't have to end,' she said, meeting my eyes.

I suddenly had a lump in my throat. I swallowed ineffectually. Her eyes bore into mine, her meaning clear. My hands shook as I opened the door and got back in the car. 'Okay.'

She drove us back to her apartment.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** Right. I've been trying to figure out how to do this next part, and this is the only way I can see it working. So, as you will see, this chapter is told from Alison's POV. I wanted to keep it all Rory and Paris, but that hasn't proven feasible, so this will be the one and only chapter written from Alison's POV. It's also super short because I really didn't intend for things to play out this way. Sorry for going on and on. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are love. Thanks.

**POV:** Alison.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Sixteen

Dear Diary,

I'm heartbroken.

Things with Paris have been going well. She's so shy and cute. I just want to hug her all the time. I love it when she smiles. Her cheeks get all dimply. It feels like a child's smile. Seems to me she doesn't do it often.

Our date got off to a shaky start. She was preoccupied. Worrying about her friend. I'll get back to that later. After the shaky start, things got better. We watched a movie. Cuddled. Kissed. It was magical. She tastes like a peach. I love peaches.

After the movie, I invited her to stay overnight. Nothing serious. I was overjoyed when she accepted. She makes me feel like I'm back in high school, crushing on Megan Appleby.

Snuggling up with Paris was great. She was shy at first. She soon got comfortable. She slept like a log. I spent a good portion of the night watching her sleep. She talks in her sleep. She mumbled something about a bangle. Maybe The Bangles? It was hard to make out. I definitely heard her say eternal flame. Probably was The Bangles.

I made her breakfast in the morning. Being the fool I am, I failed to realise that she was Jewish. She was so nice and polite when she told me about my mistake. I made her egg on toast instead. We ate breakfast together, and then decided to go out for the day.

It was probably the best day of my life. We held hands. Kissed some more. Ate a picnic together. I told her all about my musical interests. I asked her about hers. She was a fan of The Bangles. I never want to forget it.

If only it had ended better.

I was too pushy. Maybe I should have let her leave. It was probably better that I didn't. See how conflicted I am? A part of me will always wonder "what if".

Instead I had to invite her back to my apartment. We ended up in bed together. The sex was awesome. She was tentative with me. I had to guide her a little. It just made the whole thing special. Sweet. Soft. Everything I love about being with another woman.

She fell asleep before me. I couldn't sleep. I lay awake beside her and watched her sleep. I wondered if she'd talk in her sleep again. She did. She smiled the smile I love and then said her name. Rory. Her friend's name. She said it so lovingly.

I'm heartbroken.

That was only a short while ago. Not even twenty minutes. I'm sorry this entry is so rushed. I just had to get it all down. Get it all out.

Paris said her name so lovingly. She wouldn't stop talking about her. And I saw the way they looked at each other. That very first night. At the club. Sparks flew between them, unspoken, but I saw it. I knew, but I let myself hope.

I'm so stupid!

Now here I am, sitting here in the near dark, crying and heartbroken. I think I love her. I know she loves her friend. What am I supposed to do? Can I be selfish? I want to be. I want to keep her all to myself.

But then there's another part of me. A part that just wants Paris to be happy. Paris loves her Rory. And I think Rory loves Paris. Can I stand between that? Should I? Would it just lead to heartbreak for all of us? Can I even go on, pretending, when I know the truth?

I should have just let her go home.

No! I needed to know. It's good I know. God, that was so hard to write.

I've been sitting here for almost an hour now. I think I've finally decided what to do.

I love you Paris Geller, but you'll never know it. Only these pages and I.

Tomorrow I'll let you go. I hope it's the right move.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls. It belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, etc, etc. I just enjoy playing in her world and I make no profit from this.

**A/N:** This isn't my standard format. Again, I'm mixing it up a little. In this chapter I alternate between the two POV's – Paris and Rory. Enjoy.

Gilmore Girls

_Eternal Flame_

Chapter Seventeen

**Paris**

I was almost expecting to wake up to the smell of Alison cooking again, to hear her singing from the other room, but this time I didn't. It was a foggy rising from sleep. I felt so completely relaxed, like my whole body was made of jelly. Sex with Jamie had left me with a feeling of dismay – that I could do something so stupid. Sex with Alison left me feeling contented – that something so amazing was humanly possible.

I woke up, finally rising from hazy half sleep into consciousness, with a smile on my face. This was going to work.

'Hey,' Alison said gently, and for the first time I realised she was lying beside me, on her side, her head propped up by her hand.

I turned over to face her, still smiling contentedly. 'Hi.'

She had an odd look on her face that I couldn't quite place. It was like… no, I couldn't explain it. She closed her eyes, and I could see that she was bracing herself for something, before she finally opened her mouth and said, 'we need to talk.'

'We do?' A feeling of dread settled into my stomach. This couldn't be good. Did I do something wrong last night?

'Paris,' she said, sighing, suddenly shifting on the bed so that she was sitting, facing away from me, 'we're not going to work out.'

I stared at her back numbly - in shock. 'What?' I felt tears prick at my eyes. I crawled to her end of the bed and stared into her face.

'I'm sorry,' Alison said, and I could see that she was starting to cry as well, 'but I… I can't be with you.'

'Why?' I hated how my voice cracked – it was so weak – but it was unavoidable. I thought things had been going well. My life had been starting to make sense for the first time ever. I was happy. And then this… I couldn't understand it.

'Because… because you don't really want me. You're just settling for me.' I saw my much it pained her to say those words. I wanted to deny them right then, but I knew I couldn't. They were true.

'I…' I didn't know what to say.

'You love her, don't you?'

I closed my eyes. Perhaps I was trying to stop the tears? Perhaps I just couldn't look at her? How did she know?

'You said her name last night,' Alison answered my unasked question, 'in your sleep, after we made love.'

I had to open my eyes now. I owed it to her. I saw the pain and heartbreak she felt reflected in her face and I hated myself for it. How could my subconscious be so cruel? Why did I have to talk in my sleep?

'I'm so sorry,' I whispered, tears choking my voice.

'I am too,' Alison said as she got to her feet. She took a deep, sniffling breath. 'I'll leave you to get dressed.'

I watched her leave the room in a dumb haze. That was it? It was over? Just like that?

I sat on the end of the bed for several minutes, trying to wrap my head around it. Eventually, my body began to move, almost on its own, collecting my clothing and pulling them on bit by bit. I had to remove my pants at one point when I realised I had forgot to put on my underwear. That's how out of it I was.

When I was done, I found Alison in the living area. She was sitting at the dinning table. She stood up when I entered and stared back at me. 'So… that's it?' I asked, feeling horrible and stupid.

She looked down at her feet. 'I don't regret our time together,' she finally said. 'I had a lot of fun with you. Maybe… in a little while… I might call you. We could still be friends, if you want.'

'Really?'

She nodded.

'I'd like that.' An uncomfortable silence followed. 'You must hate me now…' I had to know.

'No,' Alison said, looking up at me, 'I don't hate you Paris. If I did, this would be a whole lot easier. Don't ever think that. You're so special Paris. I…' She trailed off into silence. I understood.

'Thank you,' I said.

After a few more uncomfortable moments, I at last started towards the door. Her voice stopped me just short. 'Do me one favour?'

'Anything.'

'Tell Rory how you feel,' Alison said powerfully.

I felt all the air in my lungs suddenly leave my body. 'I… I can't…'

'Do you trust me?'

'What are you saying?'

'Let's just say I have a talent for reading people,' Alison said. 'It's why I feel so stupid, because I ignored my instincts when I saw you two together. I could see the bond the two of you share. Paris, what you feel, it's mutual.'

I felt my entire body break out in goosebumps. I thrill of electricity went through me – ripe with emotion, meaning, desire, and possibilities. My hands shook so much I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm myself. I finally grasped the door handle.

'If you don't tell her, it'll be the biggest mistake of your life.'

'Alison,' I said, gripping the handle tightly, 'I… I…. thank you.'

**Rory**

I spent the rest of Friday night, and all of Saturday, only partially aware of what was going on around me. A part of me wanted nothing more than to rush home and confront Paris, but then another part was still afraid of being rejected. I didn't know what made Jess so insistent that I tell her. I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me. He only said, cryptically, that the ball was in my court now, and he wasn't going to interfere anymore than he already had.

Damn him and his mysterious ways.

Both my mom and grandma noticed that something was going on with me, but I took a page out of Jess' book and remained silent and monosyllabic.

When Sunday finally arrived and it was time to head back to Yale, my heart was pounding with apprehension. I still didn't know what I was going to do. Jess seemed pretty sure that I should tell Paris the truth. I only wished that I were that sure. Instead I couldn't help but imagine all the ways she could reject me. I had to remind myself that if anyone would understand, it would be Paris. That helped calm me down a little, but I was no closer to deciding.

Then there was Alison.

I felt the painful sting of jealousy, squeezing my heart.

My eyes found the signpost for New Haven. I was getting closer – so close now – and I could almost feel it. Change. But was it change for the better, or worse?

I was expecting Paris to be home when I returned, so I was a little surprised, and disappointed, when she wasn't. I unpacked my things first, and then went to sit on my bed. As I waited, I was still trying to decide whether I should open myself up to reject or not. Even if I did decide to tell her, I had no idea how I would do it. I didn't know if I'd be able to just say it, but if I couldn't, how else could I tell her?

**Paris**

I stood outside my dorm, trying to steel myself, trying to build up the courage I would need to tell Rory how I felt about her. I knew she was home, because I saw her car when I parked up. It would have been better if I had arrived home first, but instead I'd decided to go for a drive, in a vain attempt to give myself some thinking time.

Now here I was, still no closer to being ready, but unable to avoid it any longer.

I could just go back out to my car and… no! I couldn't do that. I had to be brave. After nearly three whole years, Rory was finally in my sights, like I never thought she would be. 'Be brave Paris,' I whispered, so quietly _I_ barely heard it, 'you can do this.'

I opened the door and stepped into the room we shared. Rory was sitting on her bed, picking at lint. She looked up when I entered and stared at me like she'd never seen me before. I took a deep breath, shut the door behind me, and said, 'hi Rory.'

'Hey,' she replied nervously. Why was she so nervous? I'm the one that should be nervous – not that I wasn't.

I struggled to find something to say. 'Did you have a good time in cow town?'

I saw Rory crack a smile. 'It was fine,' she said. After a moments pause, she went on cautiously, 'what about your date… with Alison?'

'We're not together anymore,' I told her softly.

Her eyes widened in surprise. 'How come?'

'Uh.' I didn't know what to tell her. The truth taunted me for a moment, but then slipped away. Instead I just kept my mouth shut.

'Are you okay?' Rory asked compassionately.

'I think I will be.'

'I'm sorry.' Funnily enough, she didn't really sound _that_ sorry. I studied her for a moment, but she refused to meet my eyes. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, and then suddenly sprang into motion. 'I've got some work to do.' She crossed to her desk and practically buried herself in textbooks and notepads.

To say I was mystified by her odd behaviour would be an understatement. 'Okay,' I said slowly.

Even though she was right there, I couldn't find the words, or even the actions, that would tell her how I felt. It was like when you have a thought right on the edge of your mind, but you just can't quite grasp it. Or when you know the word you want to use, but you can't conjure it up from your memory.

Rory was right there, but she remained elusive.

Defeated, I went and sat at my own desk.

**Rory**

Paris wasn't with Alison anymore.

I felt like an evil witch, because this news made me feel so happy. It was like a jigsaw piece that was finally coming together. All the events of the last few weeks had been leading up to this moment.

Paris and I being reunited as roommates.

Paris confessing her sexuality to me.

My dreams.

Kissing Dinah at the club.

My sexual awakening.

All those tiny moments we spent together, innocent on the surface, but laced with unspoken meaning.

Only… I couldn't do it. I couldn't take the next and final step.

I wanted to believe in the jigsaw (in fate), but a part of me still had doubts. This was Paris. If she were interested in me… she would have told me? Right? All those years we spent at Chilton together, during our rivalry and friendship. All those years and she never showed any sign of deeper feelings for me.

Only now I thought… but was I just being delusional? Seeing things that weren't there? That I only _wanted_ to be there?

I buried myself in my textbooks, because I didn't know what else to do.

**Paris**

We were the queens of cowardice that Sunday.

We barely spoke more than a few words to each other. At times I felt like I might, but in the end the words never came, and I went back to whatever it was I was doing – whether that be reading, studying, or just staring into space while pretending to work.

In the end the day passed in one long, uncomfortable, and mostly silent manner. I was exhausted from the tension, and I can't really speak for Rory, but I think she was as well, so we both decided to call it an early night.

It was barely nine o'clock.

After saying goodnight, I lay awake in bed. Despite how exhausted I was, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, and heard Rory doing the same. Inside my head, I heard Alison's words again and again:

'Tell Rory how you feel. Tell Rory how you feel. Tell Rory how you feel.'

I screwed my eyes shut and grasped the covers in a tight grip.

_I couldn't! _I didn't know how.

**Rory**

I could hear Paris. Like myself, she was still awake.

I could practically feel her there, just across from me, not far, but seemingly unreachable. My body screamed for her. I was hot. I couldn't get comfortable. She was right _there_! All it would take would be for me to roll out bed, cross the room, and tell her how I felt. How could something so simple be so hard?

It was like my first tentative, shy steps, when Dean had caught my interest, only for some reason this was a thousand times magnified. I wasn't some timid little girl anymore. I was supposed to be strong and confident. Only I wasn't – not when it came to her. She reduced me right back to that awkward sixteen-year-old.

I was no closer to reaching a decision. I was still afraid of being rejected, but my heart and body's need for her was overpowering all my fears. Only I didn't know how to tell her.

_It shouldn't be a big deal. We've even slept in the same bed before_, I remember thinking along those lines, and that's when the metaphorical light bulb appeared above my head.

Let me clarify. I had decided to act on instinct. I was over thinking things. If I just went with the flow, maybe an opportunity would present itself. We'd slept in the same bed before, so I thought it might not be an issue if we did it again.

Thus, I climbed out of bed, padded softly over to Paris' bed, and got her attention.

**Paris**

'Paris?'

I almost jumped out of my skin when Rory called my name quietly. Lost in my own thoughts, and facing the far wall with my back towards her, I had failed to hear or see her approach. After calming down, I turned to face her.

'Rory?' My inflection said it all. What are you doing?

'I…' she seemed to somehow wither a little before my glance, before finally pulling herself together. 'I thought… if you don't mind… could I… sleep with you?'

Instant images of us writhing around, naked, in my bed, came unbidden to my mind. I had to banish them forcefully, because I was sure that _wasn't _what she had in mind. I cleared my throat. 'Erm… sure…' I couldn't say no to her.

She smiled shyly and pulled back the covers to get in. I shuffled over a little to give her room. As her head came to rest on the edge of my pillow, our eyes met, and time seemed to freeze in place.

She looked so beautiful. Her ocean-like eyes shone at me in the darkness. I saw her open her mouth ever so slightly. Her pink tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. I felt my own lips dry up and so chewed on my bottom lip. She was so close.

'Thanks,' she whispered, and I could feel her wonderful breath on my face.

'You're welcome,' I replied, after catching my own breath.

She shifted minutely, but even so I felt her pyjama bottoms graze my bare legs. My flesh tingled. I closed my eyes and sucked in air, which suddenly seemed to be in short supply. When I opened my eyes again, she was still there, gazing back at me. A magnificent smile transformed her beautiful face into a breathtaking marvel.

'Shouldn't we… be trying to sleep?' It was the only thing I could think of to say.

'I can think of better things to do,' Rory replied, and I almost choked on my tongue. What exactly did she mean?

'W-what?'

Her smile grew wider, prettier. 'This is fine,' she said simply.

I had to forcibly tell my brain to swallow. Was she flirting with me?

My heart began to race. Maybe Alison was right. There was only one way to find out. I searched for the courage, and emboldened by Rory's flirting, I found it. I reached over to her side of the bed with my right hand and found hers. Our fingers interlocked like they were made for that exact purpose.

She gave my hand a squeeze.

I abruptly felt light headed.

**Rory**

I couldn't believe how easily everything fell into place.

As soon as my head hit the pillow and I saw my nervousness mirrored back at me in her face, I knew she felt the same. All my doubts disappeared. Okay, maybe a small portion of them remained, but against my sudden, newfound confidence, they posed little threat. When she reached out to me with her hand, even those tiny doubts blew away, like dust motes in the wind.

I knew then that I didn't have to _tell_ Paris anything.

I could show her.

I inched closer, so that our noses brushed tantalisingly. Desire echoed between us. She closed her eyes. It was all the invitation I needed. Mine remained open, drinking in her loveliness, as our lips finally touched. It was barely a kiss. It was the merest brush of lips against lips.

And it was the promise of things to come.

**A/N 2:** And there we have it. That's the last chapter, save the epilogue, which will be coming soon. Review and tell me what you think.


	18. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gilmore Girls or any of its characters.

**POV:** Rory

Epilogue

We've been together for nearly two months now, and it's been the happiest two months of my life. The first few days we spent almost exclusively together, only separating for classes. Those turned out to be almost unbearable. I wanted to be with her at all times.

When we were together, we found ourselves in a whirlwind of passion. I couldn't keep my hands off her. At first I was tentative, unsure of myself sexually, but that soon gave way to my needs. And I needed her – to feel her all the time. She responded to me eagerly in a way I wasn't expecting, though maybe I should have been.

I'd gotten used to the shy Paris, and almost forgotten about the aggressive side she was entirely capable of. She was possessive in bed, but in a way I couldn't help but respond to. I enjoyed it when she took control.

Of course it wasn't all sex.

We watched movies together, or sat with elbows touching and read quietly at other times. I remember when I was originally dating Dean, and the time I'd made him dinner, dressed up like Donna Reed. I found myself doing that more and more, and not because I was pressured into it by Paris, but because I _wanted_ to do it. Of course, I didn't wear the outfit, but you get the point.

We haven't told anybody yet. To the outside world, we're just Paris and Rory, roommates. I'm a little afraid of telling my mom. I'm not sure how she's going to react. A part of me thinks, hey, it's Lorelai, she's cool, but then another part says, but this is big, really big, and you don't know how she feels about homosexuality. I don't know which part to listen to.

Paris says she's not bothered about her parents. She doesn't care if they know or not, but she's not going to tell them. I wish I could be so flippant, but then I love my mom, and she loves me. That's what I'm afraid of losing.

So we haven't told anyone. Well, except Jess, but he figured it out himself. Speaking of Jess, he's fine. He got off pretty lightly, considering. I'm sure Ryan tried to use his father's contacts to get his way, but for reasons unknown to me, he evidently didn't. Jess is still at Luke's, at least for the time being, but it probably won't last. Then again, he seems different, so maybe it will.

I guess we'll see.

I think my mom is seeing Luke. She hasn't told me yet, but I keep finding his clothes around the house. It makes me feel a little better about not telling her about Paris, since we both have secrets.

These days, Paris often accompanies me on my weekend trips to Stars Hollow. Mom seems a little suspicious of my newfound close "friendship" with her, but other than the occasional look or pointed comment, she hasn't confronted me about it. I fear the time she will, because I don't know what to say that will convince her. I wish she wasn't so perceptive.

Right now we're at grandma and grandpa's house for Friday night dinner. Paris is sitting next to me. They seem to be thrilled with Paris, but I'm sure that'd change if they new the real relationship we shared, and that's a whole other dilemma, which I won't go into. I don't think I need to, do I? Thought not.

Mom's sitting across from Paris and I, but right now she is too preoccupied with her routinely verbal jousting with grandma to pay any extra attention to me. Thank god, because Paris has just taken my hand under the table. I try not to give anything away as I squeeze back. I see her smile out of the corner of my eye. I love her smile.

I can't help myself. I slip my foot free of my heel and move it over to brush against her stocking clad leg. She looks down at her plate to hide her growing smile. No one is paying any attention to us. She runs her thumb across the palm of my hand. It tickles wonderfully.

She squeezes my hand to get my attention. My foot continues to tease her leg. I feel her thumb again, tracing a pattern on my palm. I move my hair to the side to hide my blush from grandma, lowering my face to my plate to hide from mom. Paris is drawing a heart on my skin.

She's telling me she loves me.

She looks over at me out of the corner of her eye. I mouth back at her:

I love you too.

**A/N:** And we're done. In retrospect, I might have done a few things differently, but overall I'm happy with how it turned out. As I've said before, if I have the time (which right now I don't), I might write a sequel. I want to thank every one of you who reviewed, you all rock, and I hope you enjoyed the epilogue.


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